


The Prince's Knight

by jujitsuelf



Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic), The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, Team Happily Ever After, fairy tale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-07
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 21:17:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 85,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujitsuelf/pseuds/jujitsuelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos wonders whether he'll ever escape the clutches of Max, his evil stepfather. Where's a handsome prince when a guy needs one? All in all, it's just a very Losers fairytale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer – All publicly recognizable characters, settings etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended
> 
> ***
> 
> Thanks to Cougar's Catnip for beta work

Carlos straightened up and winced at the audible ‘pop’ from his back. Squinting up at the sun, he wondered what time it was. From the way it was blazing down on him and the other poor unfortunates who were working to bring in the harvest, he figured it had to be at least noon. Feeling the tell tale tingle of sunburn on his nose and cheeks, he walked over to his pack and found his water bottle.

“Hey, Useless! Get that bony ass of yours back to work!”

Carlos closed his eyes and prayed for patience, the water bottle still at his lips. Swallowing as much as he could without dribbling it down his shirt front, he pushed the stopper in and stowed it neatly back in the bag, in the handy little compartment he’d made to try to keep it cool. Pasting a polite smile on his face, he turned and looked at the person who’d yelled.

“Sorry, Adam. Just getting a drink.”

Adam sneered, his thin face twisting with contempt, his mean little eyes narrowed more than usual. “Don’t pay you to drink. Get back to work or I’ll tell Father you were slacking off all day, fishing in the brook and looking for sprites to play with.”

Carlos bit back the comment that he didn’t get paid at all, bad-mouthing Adam would only bring him trouble when he got home. Instead he kept the rigid smile on his lips and said, “No sprites in the brook these days. They’ve all run away, too many people for ‘em. They’re scared of us.”

“So they should be,” Adam spat whatever he’d been chewing, he was always chewing something, into the corn stalks that poked at Carlos’ bare calves. “Dirty little things, spewing magic wherever they go. Better off without them.”

Carlos privately thought that a little magic was exactly what he needed right now, if only so that he could turn Adam into the horse’s ass he so resembled.

“Adam!” Henry’s strident but nasal voice carried well across the cut corn. “Lunch time, little brother! Leave that idiot and come get some pheasant, Father took it off one of the laborers.”

Adam smacked his thin lips and leered at Carlos, who resisted the urge to cast a sad glance at the lone apple in his bag. “Pheasant, haven’t had that in ages. Just what I need, I was feeling a bit peckish. Maybe Cook might have some pie for afterward, and some nice cold lemonade too, that’d be good, don’t you think?”

Carlos bit the inside of his mouth, tasting blood and wishing for the millionth time that his mother hadn’t gone and died and abandoned him with his brute of a step-father and these two ignorant bastards as step-brothers.

“Enjoy your lunch,” he ground out, knowing full well that anything less would earn him a thrashing later. Every word he said was gleefully relayed to his step-father and even the most minor of infractions meant he’d find himself in the barn that evening, taking a dozen or so with the broad belt that was always kept in there. And if he got beaten, he got no dinner, that was the rule. He’d gone hungry more times than he could remember, but, he figured, it made him tough. The last thing he wanted was to be like his pampered, lily-livered pansy-ass step-brothers.

Adam gave him a slimy parting smile, wiggling his fingers in a girlish way he thought was funny. Carlos watched him flounce off, stopping to aim a kick at one of the young women also working in the fields that day.

Carlos’ hands curled into fists and he wished with all the might his fifteen year old soul could summon that one day he’d somehow have the power to get revenge on the people who made his life such a misery. He glanced at the apple peeking out of his bag and sighed. Better not attempt to eat it yet, it would only give Adam and Henry another reason to accuse him of not pulling his weight.

Stooping to make sure the girl wasn’t hurt from Adam’s kick, Carlos regretfully bent his head and got back to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Two Years Later...

“Carlos!” The bellow echoed around the yard like that of an enraged bull.

Carlos winced and wondered what he’d done this time. His stepfather hadn’t seen fit to drag him into the barn and give him a good solid beating recently, and he had the distinct feeling that today might be the day that the older man made up for that.

“Carlos! Where in the name of all the damned fairies are you?” Max, Carlos’ hated stepfather stomped into the yard, sending the chickens that flocked around his feet scurrying for cover.

“Here,” Carlos said, wearily rising to his feet, knowing that hiding would only get him into more trouble later. “What have I done now?”

Max’s wicked little eyes narrowed to slits and despite his bravado, a cold shiver worked its way down Carlos’ spine. “Any more insolence from you, boy and you’ll be sleeping on your front for a month. You know I’ll have the skin off your back, don’t you?”

Carlos nodded silently. Meek compliance was usually the way to get Max to calm down, even though it sometimes almost physically hurt to cast his eyes downwards. Besides, his stepfather didn’t make idle threats, Carlos had found that out long ago and still bore the scars from trying to find out how far he could push Max before he snapped. Now he was almost old enough to leave home, there was no sense in getting himself beaten to a pulp over trifling things that wouldn’t matter in a few months.

“Why isn’t Henry’s mare ready? He wants to go hunting,” Max snapped, pulling his leather riding gloves off his hands one finger at a time. Carlos hated it when he did that, as it was one of his favorite stunts to pull right before he reached for the belt in the barn.

Trying to ignore the fear-induced cold sweat that sprang to life beneath his shirt collar, Carlos said quietly, “She’s gone lame, sir. It’d be cruel to ride her.”

“Well, saddle another one then,” Max said contemptuously. “Or are you just too simple to figure that out on your own?”

“Only one not out in the fields is Firefly, sir,” Carlos said miserably, knowing what was coming. Firefly was the one thing he called his own. The little black gelding had been his best and sometimes only friend in the dark years since his mother had died.

“Then saddle Firefly.” Max smiled coldly, enjoying Carlos’ discomfort. At that moment Carlos knew one day he would kill the man.

“Do it this very minute,” Max went on, the smile still on his fleshy lips. “Or you won’t see daylight for a week. You’re already well acquainted with the cellar, aren’t you?”

Carlos’ nostrils flared as he remembered the many times his step-brothers had pushed him down into the dank cellar beneath the kitchen and locked the door behind him, leaving him alone with just the rats and mold for company. They’d done it only last month, and their mocking laughter still rang in his ears, making him burn with anger and shame for not having retaliated when they let him out.

“Yes, sir,” he muttered, eyes firmly locked on the cobbles in front of Max’s shiny boots. With a leaden heart, he turned to Firely’s stall and quickly got him ready.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the horse’s ear and dropped a quick kiss on his velvety nose.

The smirk was still on Max’s face as Henry heaved himself into Firefly’s saddle and kicked him viciously into an unnecessary trot. A walk was more than enough out of the yard, with its slippery, uneven cobbles just waiting to injure a slender leg.

Carlos watched until they were out of sight. Adam had joined Henry and doubtless they would both be back later with bloody knives and various kills which they would take great pleasure in keeping to themselves. Nothing they ever caught was contributed to the general cooking pot, it stayed firmly on their own table.

What he was more concerned about was Firely. Henry was well known for how badly he treated his horses, using his spurs with gay abandon. Carlos felt physically sick at the thought of poor little Firefly suffering at Henry’s cruel hands, but there was nothing he could do about it. As he had been for the last eleven years, he was utterly powerless.

****

Loud clattering and yelling and a lot of commotion drew Carlos out of Firefly’s stall, where he’d been miserably awaiting his horse’s return. Max appeared, in his shirt sleeves, a furious scowl on his face. He’d probably had his afternoon nap interrupted, he hated that with a rare passion.

Henry and Adam came thundering over the cobbles, both of their horses snorting madly and slick with foamy sweat. Behind them was another rider, one Carlos had never seen before, on a truly magnificent bay mare. As Henry and Adam swung down from their mounts, Carlos got a better look at the bay’s rider and caught his breath.

It was a boy no older than himself, but as fair as he was dark. He had wild hair that stuck up in all directions and shone like spun gold in the late afternoon sun. His eyes were bluer than any cornflower Carlos had ever seen. His mouth was pink and rosy, his bottom lip a shade fuller than the top one, it looked absolutely made for kissing.

Not that Carlos spent a lot of time thinking about kissing boys. At least, not during the day. Maybe at night, and it was definitely equal to the amount of time he spent thinking about kissing girls. After all, he was only a normal seventeen year old. Granted his whole experience of kissing had come from clandestine meetings behind the woodshed for the past two years, but at least he’d made sure he shared himself around and didn’t hog one girl or boy too much. Because he was nice like that.

Right now, the boy on the horse looked like he wanted to hit something. His fair eyebrows were drawn into a deep frown and the corners of his eminently kissable mouth were pinched and slightly white with anger. “Who’s the master of this house?” he demanded haughtily.

Carlos wasn’t sure whether to take Firefly and hide in the stall or linger and see what the stranger had to say. He settled for taking the reins Henry thrust at him and running a soothing hand down Firefly’s quivering neck.

“I’m master here,” Max said angrily. “Who are you to come into my home demanding things of me?”

Henry and Adam both winced. Carlos instantly became far more interested. Anyone who could make those two self-important maggots uneasy definitely deserved his attention.

The boy smiled, showing brilliantly white, even teeth. But somehow it wasn’t a pleasant smile, even though it was very pretty. Carlos patted Firefly again and tried to make himself invisible behind the horse’s bulk.

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize me, sir,” the stranger said. “Not many people in this realm are ignorant of what their prince looks like.”

Carlos felt his eyes go round as saucers and bit back a gasp. The prince? Prince Jacob? From the castle? By all the fairies, what was he doing here?

“I apologize profusely, Your Highness,” Max said, smoothly bowing and turning from arrogant to obsequious in a heartbeat. “Welcome to my home, may I offer you some refreshment?”

“No,” the Prince replied. “I’m just curious to know why you allowed your sons to hunt on my father’s own personal land. Not that this entire kingdom isn’t his, but you must be well aware that he keeps some land close to the castle for his own use. And his use alone.” He directed a furious glare at Adam and Henry, who both looked at their boots in shame. “I found these two fools hunting rabbits on my father’s land. Naturally, I wished to accompany them home in order to ensure that no such mistake is ever made again.”

While he was practically shaking in his tattered boots at being so close to royalty, in their kingdom the king was judge, jury and executioner, Carlos had to admire the prince’s guts in taking on two armed men, both older than himself. He was brave as well as handsome, so far he ticked every princely box. Carlos wondered whether Prince Jacob thought about kissing boys too, or perhaps that was too much to hope for.

“I can only offer my sincere apologies, Your Highness,” Max said, oily to the extreme. “My sons are both very keen hunters, I imagine they were in pursuit of a quarry and unfortunately strayed onto the royal land without realizing it. They are both mortified, I’m sure.”

Prince Jacob’s nostrils flared as he directed an even more outraged look at Adam and Henry. “They’ll be properly reprimanded, I trust.”

“Of course,” Max smiled and Carlos knew without a shadow of a doubt, neither Adam nor Henry would ever feel the kiss of Max’s belt on their bare asses. He wished the same could be said about his own.

“The hunting matter is bad enough,” the prince went on, ignoring Max entirely. “But what I really wanted to speak to you about is the way that one,” he pointed at Henry, “was riding. That poor horse of his will have scars till the day it dies, he was using his damned spurs so much. Take the things off him until he grows up enough to use them responsibly. Perhaps you could use them on him, then he may not be so free with them.”

Carlos’ mouth dropped open in horror as he listened to the prince’s clear voice. Running his hand down Firefly’s damp flank, he was appalled to see that it came away tinged with red. Looking more closely, he saw the wounds that Henry had inflicted, doubtless urging Firefly to move faster, chasing whatever hapless animal had stumbled across his path.

With an incoherent yell of rage, Carlos darted out from behind Firefly and tackled Henry to the ground. Henry’s head bounced off of the cobbles with a satisfying crack. Using every ounce of strength that he could summon from his wiry frame, Carlos slammed his fists into whatever part of Henry he could reach, shouting abuse the whole time. Long before he’d run out of insults, someone pulled his arms behind him, practically forcing his elbows together, and dragged him to his feet. He realized it was Adam and stamped down hard, hoping to get free but only managing a glancing blow on Adam’s booted foot.

“Firefly’s my horse, you son of bitch!” Carlos yelled wildly, practically spitting at Henry. “You ever touch him again, I’ll kill you, I swear by all the fairies I will!”

Max suddenly loomed in front of him and backhanded him hard across the face. “Believe me, boy,” he hissed, his face only inches from Carlos’ throbbing cheek. “You just made a very big mistake.” He hauled Henry to his feet and glanced at Adam. “Get this miserable whelp out of my sight.”

“Gladly,” Adam said and dragged Carlos toward the kitchen door. Unfortunately Adam was now bigger and heavier than Carlos, so, struggle though he did, he found himself unable to put up much of a fight. Plus his head was ringing from Max’s blow and everything was a little unfocused.

“Let him go!” Prince Jacob’s voice was harsh and firm, he sounded every inch the king he’d one day be. His icy gaze was directed right at Adam. “You. Let that boy go right now.”

Carlos glanced at Max, who nodded imperceptibly to his son. Adam slackened his grip a fraction and Carlos tore himself out of his grasp, gasping for breath and rubbing at his arms.

“Boy.”

Carlos looked up and saw that the prince was staring at him. “Y-your Highness,” he stammered, dropping into a clumsy bow.

“That’s your horse?” Prince Jacob said, nodding at Firefly.

“Yes, sir,” Carlos said, his eyes on the ground in front of the bay’s hooves.

“Then I’d say you have every right to be angry.”

Max made a strangled noise behind Carlos, who winced. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Can you care for the animal here or will you allow me to take him to the castle and let my stableboys heal him?”

Carlos’ eyes shot up to meet those of the prince. “Really?”

Prince Jacob smiled, far more pleasantly this time. Carlos felt his stomach do a strange little flip-flop. “Yes, really. He’s a nice little thing, it’s a shame to leave him here if there’s a chance my men can heal him without leaving too many scars.”

Max stepped forward, his mouth set in a grim line. “Your Highness, I appreciate your concern for the animal and I regret the way it came by its injuries, but I assure you, we are more than capable of caring for the beast here. This boy has no right to give away anything of mine.”

“Is he a servant of yours?” Prince Jacob asked, cocking his golden head to one side.

“No,” Carlos said quickly before his courage failed him. “He’s my stepfather.”

“And yet you treat him like the lowliest kitchen maid,” the prince said, narrowing his eyes at Max. “I’m not sure I like you, sir.” He straightened in his saddle, the rich brown leather creaking beneath his thighs. Long, slim thighs which were clad in creamy breeches, Carlos noticed.

“I’ll take the gelding,” Prince Jacob said decisively, then switched his gaze back to Carlos. “He’ll be well cared for, I promise. I’ll return him to you when he’s healed, if that is all right with you?”

Carlos nodded, his throat suddenly too tight to speak. A real live prince was talking to him as though he was an equal. Nobody ever spoke to him that way. All he ever got was insults and derision. Kindness was a little overwhelming.

“My Lord,” Max spluttered. “You cannot simply take a horse of mine...”

“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do, sir,” the prince broke in coldly. “I will see the horse healed and return it to its rightful owner. Give me the reins.” He held out a hand and impatiently clicked his fingers.

Henry grabbed Firefly’s trailing reins and handed them over, not meeting Prince Jacob’s blue gaze.

Taking them, the prince looped them securely around his pommel. He carefully pulled his own mare’s head around until they faced out of the yard. Firefly followed willingly enough, casting a glance at Carlos that seemed to say, ‘I don’t know what’s happening but I’m all right.’

“I bid you good day, sir,” Prince Jacob called over his shoulder, not bothering to speak to Adam or Henry. “I have a hunting trip of my own planned in a day or two. I’ll be passing very close to this farm, if I have time, I may drop in to partake of those refreshments you offered. If I find that anything untoward has happened to this young man,” he nodded at Carlos, “I will be most displeased. So displeased that I may have to mention it to my father. He doesn’t much appreciate people who treat others badly.”

Max’s face went a peculiar shade of purple, then drained to white. Carlos tried not to be too hopeful that the prince’s words would save him from the beating of his life. Once Max was angry, he had to take it out on someone and Carlos was usually the one in his line of fire.

To Carlos’ immense surprise, the prince beckoned to him to come closer. Approaching warily, not wanting to spook the bay, Carlos gazed up him, trying to remember whether the rule was to always look royalty in the eye or never to.

Prince Jacob leaned down in his saddle and said softly, “I’m sorry I can’t take you as well, but I don’t think my father would like it if I interfere too much. He tells me I get too involved with people.” He shrugged, “I can’t help it. I really will come back in a couple of days to make sure you’re all right. That stepfather of yours looks like a vindictive bastard.”

He smiled and Carlos felt that odd swooping sensation in his stomach again.

“What’s your name?” the prince asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Carlos, Your Highness,” Carlos replied a little breathlessly. “Thank you for your kindness to Firefly. And I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t sure of any such thing, but it seemed pointless and slightly cowardly to tell the prince that.

With a last nod goodbye, Prince Jacob trotted away, Firefly following happily behind him. Carlos watched them go and wondered how long he’d be locked in the cellar for this time.

****

The prince was right, Carlos thought miserably. Max was a vindictive bastard. The threat of the king learning about the way he treated Carlos had prevented him from delivering the beating Carlos had expected, but instead Max had shoved him down into the cellar as soon as the prince was out of sight.

His stomach grumbled as he tried to figure out how long he’d been down there. To distract himself from his growing hunger, he counted up how many weeks, days, hours and minutes it was until he turned eighteen and could legally leave home. Nine months, twenty five days, he got a little lost when it came to the hours and minutes, as he had no idea what time it currently was. Not much light made it through the gaps in the cellar walls, so it could be dawn or twilight and the place would look the same.

After what seemed an eternity of sitting in the mildewy dampness, positive that he could feel his joints seizing up as the moments passed, Carlos heard the heavy bolt on the door slide back. He scrambled to his feet and backed up against the wall. Had Max decided now was the best time to kick him around a little? Had Prince Jacob been and gone? Or had he forgotten all about Carlos as soon as he’d gotten back to the castle? That thought inexplicably depressed him, so he shoved it away.

Max’s voice floated down the slippery stone steps, “You still alive, boy? Or did the rats get you?”

“Still here,” Carlos replied, trying to sound as civil as possible. Sulkiness wasn’t often indulged, at least not sulkiness from him. From Adam and Henry, it was amusing, from him it was insulting.

“Get up here,” Max growled. “Clean yourself up and make yourself look presentable. If that snot-nosed brat of a prince does come by today, you’ll tell him that you’ve been well treated, you understand me?”

Carlos wearily climbed the steps, blinking in the bright sunlight that flooded the kitchen. “I understand,” he muttered. Yeah, like he was going to lie to someone who might actually be able to help him. Maybe if he asked very nicely, the prince might be able to get him a job in the castle when he turned eighteen. Carlos Alvarez, Royal Guard, sounded quite good. Then again, he’d settle for cleaning out the pigsties if it meant he was out of Max’s reach.

When he’d scrubbed his dirty face and dragged on a clean shirt, Carlos returned to the kitchen and smiled at Cook. She’d always had a soft spot for him, and pushed a plate of bread and cheese in his direction. Max walked in just as he was finishing and gave Cook a disapproving look.

“When you’re done stuffing yourself, get to work,” he growled. “Animals aren’t going to feed themselves.”

“Yes, sir,” Carlos muttered, hiding a chunk of bread in his pocket for later.

The sunshine that lit up the yard was bright and cheerful, and effectively banished Carlos’ black mood. He grinned affectionately at the piglets in the sty and clucked at the chickens as they ran toward him, demanding their breakfast.

As he worked, he wondered whether the prince would come by or not. He really rather hoped he would, even for a prince, Jacob was outstandingly pretty.


	3. Chapter 3

Jacob ran a hand down Firefly’s silky nose and smiled. He was a nice little thing, willing and eager. His dark coat reminded Jacob of the boy who claimed to own him. Carlos, a nice name, it suited him.

Carlos’ hair was as black as pitch and his eyes were akin to the melted chocolate Jacob had loved as a boy. There wasn’t much to the lad, but at least he wasn’t portly or flabby like so many of the castle squires. No, Carlos was lean but looked like he was all muscle and hard sinew. Wiry, Jacob thought, that’s what he was. His thoughts drifted away from the horse in front of him as he wondered what Carlos’ long hair felt like. Was it rough and coarse like Firefly’s mane or soft and silky like his own mother’s hair?

He ran a hand through his short hair and smiled wryly. “Should I grow mine like your master’s?” he murmured to Firefly, who made a whuffling noise in reply. Jacob took that to mean no, and chuckled. “You’re probably right, I don’t think I’d look as good as him. Then again, being me, I might start a new fashion. You know everyone scrambles and falls over themselves to do what I do and wear what I wear? It’s a bit ridiculous. Don’t they have brains of their own?”

“They do,” a deep voice behind him said, making him jump. “But they’re not sure whether they’re allowed to use them or not. Generations of kings lording it over them has made them scared and unsure. It’s our job to try to remind them that they are in fact free people, no longer under the thumbs of kings with magic at their disposal.”

Jacob smiled and joined in with his father’s favorite phrase, “Love the people and they will love you in return. Hello, Father.”

“What are you doing up so early?” the king asked, casting a critical eye over Firefly. “And whose horse is this? I don’t recall buying it.”

“You didn’t,” Jacob replied, scratching his ear guiltily. “I did. Or rather, I didn’t. I took it.” At his father’s raised eyebrow, he elaborated, “I saved him. I found two young men hunting on your land and one was riding this little fellow, cut him to pieces with his spurs. So I followed them home and bought Firefly back with me to get him healed up.”

The king sighed and ruffled Jacob’s hair affectionately. “Son, I know you want to help everyone but honestly, sometimes...” He smiled, “Did the horse’s owner object to you taking him?”

“No,” Jacob said swiftly, “I asked, I didn’t just take him. The boy said he was happy for me to bring him here.”

“The boy?” King Edward’s smile turned into a boyish grin. “Have you gone and fallen in love again? You’re far too soft-hearted at times.”

“No!” Jacob cried, then thought about it. “Well...actually, no. No, I haven’t. I’m just doing someone a favor.” He resisted the urge to add ‘so there’ and stick his tongue out. He was talking to the king, after all, and even he wasn’t safe from Edward’s anger on occasion. He went on, casting his eyes down to the gleaming cobbles of the stableyard in a show of deference, “I thought I might go hunting today. Unless you need me here.” Please say you don’t need me, he thought, I want to see Carlos.

King Edward stroked Firefly’s nose and shook his head. “No, I don’t think we need you today. But make sure you bring us back something good. I’m getting bored of rabbit and hare for dinner, if you see any deer, I’ll be eternally grateful.”

Jacob snapped off a salute like the sharpest of royal guards and grinned cheekily. “Your wish is my command, my liege.” He ducked the good-natured swat his father aimed at his head and ran toward his own bay mare’s stall, his heart suddenly light and carefree and positively singing in his chest.

****

Carlos spent most of the morning lingering near the yard entrance, looking both ways along the dusty road which wound past the farm. In one direction it led to the castle, as all roads in the kingdom eventually did, in the other it meandered through fields and valleys, up hill and down dale until it vanished over the horizion.

He sighed, what he’d give to follow that rutted path to wherever it wanted to take him. His bare feet positively itched to leave the farm and go out on his own. But, the ancient laws which still governed the land he lived in said that young people were not full grown and responsible for themselves until they were eighteen years old. Neither were they allowed to leave home, if they did, anyone could catch them and bring them right back again. So, he’d have to bide his time and bite his tongue for another nine months.

Perhaps if Prince Jacob, with his long legs and distractingly blue eyes and kissable mouth were to come by now and then, those nine months might be a little more easily borne. Carlos wondered how close the prince was to his eighteenth birthday, was he allowed to ask? How did one talk to a prince? Should he keep his eyes down and meekly agree with everything he said, or did Prince Jacob like people who weren’t afraid of who he was?

His wandering thoughts distracted him from what he was doing and he stepped backward into a squelchy cowpat. He swore and hopped around on one foot trying to shake the worst of it off. A cackle of girlish laughter made him stop and grin. “Morning, Bernice.”

“Morning, Carlos,” Bernice said, tossing her head so that the sun caught the red streaks in her dark hair. “Daydreaming again?”

Bernice was the eldest daughter of Old Tom, who owned the next farm along the road. Old Tom wasn’t really so old, but everyone had been calling him that for as long as Carlos could remember. Bernice was the same age as him, and desperate to get away from the stiflingly affectionate bosom of her family. She and Carlos had been friends for years, sharing their awkward teenage times and hatching dozens of plans as to what they would do as soon as they were free to do as they wished. She was very beautiful and once or twice had been the girl Carlos ended up with behind the woodshed, but it always felt a little wrong, so they both agreed that being friends was better. Along with Firefly, she’d been his lifeline in the dark years of living under Max’s iron rule.

“One day my prince will come...” Bernice sang, her voice clear and pure in the morning air.

Obviously news about Prince Jacob’s visit had spread like wildfire in the close knit community of farmers in their section of the valley.

“Be quiet,” Carlos pleaded. “Max is already angry enough, I’ve been in the cellar since the day before yesterday. The prince isn’t his favorite person at the moment.”

Bernice shrugged, “Well he should have told Henry not to be such an ass with his spurs. It’s their own fault the prince took Firefly.” A lecherous gleam appeared in her eyes. “What’s he look like? Is he as handsome as the tales say? Is he taller than the oak out in our far meadow? Are his eyes bluer than the sky? They say he can bewitch people with his smile...can he?”

Carlos chuckled and hauled a bucket of water up from the ancient well. The sun sparkled off the surface and momentarily dazzled him. The prince’s smile had dazzled him too. Bernice slapped her hand in the bucket and splashed him, startling him out of his daydream.

“Huh?” He pulled at his now damp shirt and grinned. “Sorry.”

“Hmm,” Bernice smiled smugly, “he must be handsome, you’ve got that look on your face.”

“What look?” Carlos said.

“The one you get when you’re spending far too much time thinking about someone that you like.”

“Carlos!” Max’s voice echoed through the yard. “Get in this damned house and clean out the fireplaces! There’s ash up to my eyeballs in here, boy!”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “The fairies forbid he should ever do something for himself.”

Bernice patted his arm sympathetically. “Keep the faith, you’ll be eighteen before you know it. And at least you have that handsome prince to think about all day.”

Carlos nodded glumly. “I guess. Well, better go clean the grates, I suppose. No rest for the wicked, huh?”

“And you are very wicked,” Bernice said, straight faced.

Grinning, Carlos bid her farewell and set about washing his feet before he went into the house. Cleaning out the ash from fireplaces wasn’t too onerous a job, there were far worse ones, so the time passed fairly quickly. But all the same, he listened as hard as he could for the sound of hooves out on the road.

****

As Jacob neared the farm, he felt something not unlike butterflies in his stomach. As prince and sole heir to the throne, he was perfectly entitled to go anywhere he liked, regardless of who owned the land he was on. Even so, Carlos’ stepfather sent a cold chill shuddering down his spine. The man had a malevolent gleam in his eye and Jacob suspected that he often visited his ire upon Carlos alone rather than equally between all three of his sons.

But the prospect of seeing Carlos again was too much to resist and he happily pointed his mare’s nose in the direction of the farm. They wandered along, boy and horse content in one another’s company, the rapidly warming sun bathing them both in bright light. Lulled into a daze by the mare’s steady hoofbeats, Jacob daydreamed, imagining what Carlos’ black hair looked like in the sun and what those dark eyes were like when they snapped and sparkled with wickedness.

When he arrived, the farmyard was empty save for a few chickens and a very haughty looking duck.

“Anyone home?” he called, hoping it would be Carlos who answered. His hopes were dashed as the stepfather appeared.

Stooping into a low bow which somehow managed to look mocking, Max said smoothly, “Good morning to you, Your Highness. I trust you are well on this fine day?”

“I am well,” Jacob said, trying to be civil and ignore his dislike for the man. “I trust your son Carlos is in equally good health.”

“Stepson,” Max corrected, smiling to show that he meant no harm. “I married his mother when he was but a babe in arms. Sadly she was not strong and passed away some years ago. Carlos is as dear to me as my own sons, he reminds me of his mother every day.”

Jacob narrowed his eyes, remembering how Max had told his other son to get Carlos, the ‘miserable whelp’, out of his sight. But he recalled his own father telling him that thoughts were all well and good but a king must always be in control of his outward emotions, so he smiled back politely. “I am sorry for your loss, sir. May I trouble you to bring Carlos to me? I wish to speak with him, to express my sorrow at the loss of his mother.”

Max bowed again and turned back to the house. Jacob congratulated himself on a good bit of kingship, he’d managed to pluck a logical, well fairly logical, reason for wanting to see Carlos out of thin air. His father would be proud, he was always saying that if Jacob listened to people more, he’d glean snippets of information that would come in useful in the future. Sometimes Jacob thought that being king seemed to be less about giving orders and more about spying on the entire kingdom to find out who was plotting against him.

While he waited for Carlos to appear, Jacob fought the urge to squirm impatiently in his saddle. The sun was directly overhead now, beating down relentlessly. Wiping sweat from his brow, he dismounted and led the mare to the drinking trough. She plunged her nose greedily into it, splashing his cloak and breeches with crystal clear water.

Jacob grinned at her and dipped a hand into the trough as well, wondering whether it would be princely to just dunk his head into the water and cool off. Before he could act on his impulse, hesitant footsteps behind him made him turn.

Carlos looked incredibly nervous and bowed as clumsily as he had the last time Jacob had seen him. A half-smile lingered on his lips and Jacob noticed that he hadn’t shaved that morning. Wisps of fine black hair decorated Carlos’ upper lip and chin.

“You should grow a beard,” Jacob said by way of greeting. “It would suit you. Might make you look older. How old are you?”

“Seventeen, Your Highness,” Carlos said softly, his eyes on Jacob’s boots. “But I’ll be eighteen in nine months.” This last part was said with such defiance and determination, Jacob couldn’t hide his smile.

“Eager to leave home?” He glanced up at the farmhouse, guessing that Max was probably watching them through one of the small windows. “I can’t say that I blame you. I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble the other day. Did they treat you well after I left with your horse?”

Carlos’ eyes flickered toward the house before he said, “Yes, Your Highness. I’m perfectly well.”

Jacob smiled faintly and said, “How about we go hunting and you can tell me the truth without anyone eavesdropping on you?”

Carlos’ eyes widened as he blurted, “What? Hunting? Can I? Am I allowed? Don’t you need guards or something?”

Laughing gaily, Jacob plunged his hand back into the trough and splashed water all over his face. “Why would I need guards?” he said when he’d wiped it out of his eyes. “I’ll have you.”

****

Carlos couldn’t quite believe his luck as he and Prince Jacob rode away from the farmhouse.

Max hadn’t been pleased at the prince’s request that Carlos accompany him but faced with royalty, couldn’t refuse. Adding insult to injury, Carlos was riding Adam’s favorite horse. He ran a hand down the shining black neck in front of him and wondered whether singing with pure joy was allowed when in the company of a prince.

He watched the way Prince Jacob sat easily in his saddle, he looked as though he’d been born to ride. Carlos frowned as he tried to relax his shoulders and shake off the tension that was holding him as stiff as a board. He was alone with a prince. By all the fairies, sprites and every other magical creature in creation, what was he supposed to say, what should he do? Was he allowed to start a conversation or did that honor only fall to the prince? Should he venture to offer genuine opinions if asked, or was agreeing with everything Prince Jacob said the order of the day? He tightened his grip on his reins and swallowed, as much fun as it was watching the way the sun made the prince’s hair gleam, the fear that he was going to do something hideously wrong was souring the moment.

“So, how are you really?” the prince called to him when they were out of earshot of the farm.

Finding that he was suddenly stuck for anything remotely intelligent to say, Carlos heard himself stammer, “I-I am well, my Lord.”

Twisting round in his saddle, the prince raised an eyebrow. Carlos was struck once again by just how blue his eyes were. They put periwinkles and forget-me-nots to shame.

“Tell the truth,” Prince Jacob said, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You’re probably not well at all. I don’t like your stepfather, he looks like he’s the kind of man who’d step on baby birds just for the pleasure of watching them die.”

Carlos had to admit that was a fairly accurate description of Max’s personality. Cold and cruel, he’d always treated Carlos as nothing more than an annoyance. Why his mother had married Max in the first place, Carlos never knew. He suspected she wasn’t entirely willing. Henry and Adam’s mother had died when they were young too, perhaps women just grew weary of living with Max, he sucked all the fight and energy out of people.

Out loud, Carlos said, “He is a hard man, Your Highness.”

“What did he do after I left with Firefly? Did he hurt you?” The prince’s fair brows drew closer together as he spoke.

“No,” Carlos answered truthfully. “I expected him to, but I think you frightened him.” He cast a shy smile in the prince’s direction. “Thank you.”

A faint flush rose into Prince Jacob’s cheeks. He ducked his head and said, “I’m glad I could help. Being a prince has to come in useful sometimes.”

“Oh, it did,” Carlos said fervently. “If not for you, I don’t know what he might have done. As it was, he just locked me in the cellar.”

The prince’s eyes darkened until they were the color of a thunderous sky, “What?”

Carlos wondered whether he’d said something offensive, what was the penalty for offending a prince? “Uh,” he said uncertainly, “Max locked me in the cellar. He’s done it before, it doesn’t matter. It’s far better than getting my ass whipped.”

Prince Jacob’s lip curled up into a snarl. “He’s a monster. I’ll tell my father about him. I’ll ask him to get you away from that farm.”

Carlos smiled gently, “Thank you, my Lord but honestly, I’m all right. I’ve had worse. I’ll be eighteen soon, so I can do as I like. I can survive until then.”

The prince’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Very well. I suppose my father might not appreciate me bringing him more trouble to deal with. Being king seems very complicated. It’s not at all fun. You know he even banned me from whistling in the castle the other day? I think being king is destroying his sense of humor.” He glanced at Carlos, who found himself fighting a very dry mouth when he saw those blue eyes flash again. “If I turn into a miserable king, tell me? I’d like to think I’ll be entertaining if nothing else.”

All Carlos could do was nod, struck dumb by the way the sun highlighted the prince’s long golden eyelashes.

Glancing up at the sky, Prince Jacob said, “I suppose we’d better actually do some hunting, seeing as we’re out here and have the time. My father said to bring him back a deer but I don’t think there’s much hope of that. Looks like it’ll be rabbit again for dinner. Oh, are there any partridges in this area? I love partridge. What’s your favorite?”

Carlos looked down at his saddle, ashamed for the first time that he’d been born a commoner. “I don’t usually get much in the way of meat for dinner. Max and my stepbothers take it and leave me with the scraps, if I’m lucky.”

The prince’s mouth compressed into a hard line, making him look older and a little forbidding. “They’re bastards, all three of ‘em.” A smile suddenly lit up his face, “How about we catch something small we can cook and eat out here before we go back? Fair shares for all.”

Feeling the same fluttery swooping sensation he’d pondered over the last time he’d met Prince Jacob, Carlos grinned and nodded. He was going to hunt and have dinner with a prince. The day just kept on getting more and more surreal.

****

“I’m never eating again,” Jacob groaned, leaning back against the wide tree they’d chosen as their picnic place.

Carlos smiled and licked his greasy fingers, then carefully put out the small campfire they’d cooked on. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a meal which included so much meat, and freshly cooked meat at that. Shooting a glance at the prince, who had his arms folded behind his head and his eyes closed, he wondered whether he was allowed to relax too or whether he should stand guard or something.

As though hearing his thoughts, the prince cracked an eye open and said, “Come on, sit down. We’re in a wood in the middle of nowhere, I don’t need a bodyguard. Anyway, you’re such a good shot, you could probably shoot anyone trying to attack us long before they were close enough to do any damage.”

Carlos couldn’t help but preen a little as he remembered the prince’s admiration when he’d shot the quail they’d just eaten. He’d borrowed Prince Jacob’s bow and even if he said so himself, it had been a hard shot, moving target and all. “Thank you,” he said, lowering himself into the dry grass on the other side of the tree trunk.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” the prince asked, scooting around to sit next to him.

His chest suddenly far too tight, Carlos tried to find some words. Damn, up close, Prince Jacob was even more handsome. There were flecks of gold in his eyes and darker strands in his fair hair. His eyelashes were as long as any girl’s and his skin was perfectly smooth and even. Carlos wondered whether kissing a prince without said prince’s permission would land him in jail.

Trying to marshall his scrambled thoughts, he looked away from the prince and said, “I didn’t. I’ve always been able to do it.”

Prince Jacob laughed, “Maybe I should recruit you to come and teach my father’s guards how to shoot. Most of ‘em can’t hit the broad side of a barn on a good day.”

Carlos had to remind himself that every time Prince Jacob said ‘my father’ he was in fact talking about the king. It was simultaneously terrifying and exciting. Taking a deep breath, he said, “When I leave home, I’d like to work in the castle. I’d be a good guard.” He bit his lip and realized what he’d said, “Not that I was asking you to get me a job or anything, I wouldn’t...of course you wouldn’t have to...sorry.”

The prince laughed and bumped his shoulder against Carlos’. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned to look into Carlos’ eyes and said softly, “Besides, I think I’d like it if you worked in the castle. You’d be close by all the time, that could be fun.” His pink tongue flickered out to wet his lips.

Carlos knew his mouth had dropped open a little but he was so busy trying to remember how to breathe, he didn’t care. The prince was so close, he could see the thin white line of an old scar that sliced through his eyebrow. They were practically breathing the same air when a loud crack overhead made them spring apart, both scrambling to their feet.

“Damn it, it didn’t feel like thunder weather,” the prince grumbled as he grabbed his cloak and flung it around his shoulders. Big, fat raindrops were already falling and their pattering on the leaves overhead was growing louder by the second.

Carlos wrapped his arms around himself, the temperature had suddenly dropped and the air was now practically chilly when a few moments ago it had been sultry and shimmering with heat. There were no more thunder claps and he relaxed a little, he’d been wondering where to take the prince for safety, being under a tree in a thunderstorm wasn’t a good idea. But the rain increased in intensity and before long it was finding gaps through the dense leaves above them. Carlos shivered at the cool breeze that swirled around him.

“You cold?” Prince Jacob asked, looking concerned.

“No,” Carlos replied, hugging his arms more tightly around himself.

“Get over here,” the prince grinned, lifting one side of his long red cloak. “My mother bought me this from a far off land, it’s practically waterproof. Warm too.” He wafted the cloak temptingly and Carlos gave in.

He had to admit, Prince Jacob was right, the cloak was warm. Or maybe he was just feeling feverish from standing so close to royalty. Then again, maybe it was because the prince was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and Carlos now found himself pressed up against him. Prince Jacob wrapped his arm over Carlos’ shoulders and twitched the long fabric to cover them both.

“Better?”

Carlos nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The prince was an inch or two taller than him, so he had to tilt his head back a little to look at him. He did so, and found those startlingly blue eyes boring into his again. “I...” he began, not sure what he was going to say.

Prince Jacob smiled, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners. “Uh-huh.” He kissed Carlos gently, barely more than a quick brush of lips but charged with more crackling intensity than the storm overhead possessed.

Carlos kept his eyes open, not quite able to believe that a real live prince had just kissed him.

Prince Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Was that...I mean, do you mind...I didn’t think to ask...”

Kissing him again seemed to be an effective way of stopping the words tumbling from his mouth, so Carlos did. The prince tasted faintly of quail, his lips warm and soft beneath Carlos’. Carefully, Carlos ran his tongue along that velvety bottom lip, wondering whether tongues were allowed when kissing royalty. With a quiet sigh, Prince Jacob pulled Carlos closer and gave a good as he got.

Carlos broke away when he began to feel dizzy from lack of air. The prince’s grin was crooked and a little self-conscious.

“Um, I don’t usually do that with people I’ve only just met.” He wrinkled his nose. “Just in case you think I’m easy or something.”

“You’re the prince,” Carlos whispered, angling his face up for another kiss. “You can do whatever you want.”

Prince Jacob chuckled dirtily and slid his hand down Carlos’ spine. “Careful, I just might hold you to that.”

As their lips met again, Carlos decided that being held to that wouldn’t be too unpleasant at all.

****

The rain soon stopped, leaving everything looking newly washed and invigoratingly clean. Carlos thought perhaps they should hunt some more, in order to have things to take home with them, but Prince Jacob’s kisses were far more interesting.

When the air took on a chill that spoke of evening, the prince finally let go of Carlos, smoothing the pad of his thumb over Carlos’ mouth regretfully. “I suppose we should go soon,” he said. “My father will be expecting me home for dinner tonight. If I don’t go he’ll send a search party.”

Carlos smiled, if he didn’t go home, Max would probably throw a party before flying into a rage and coming out to find him himself. Just why Max had always been so determined to keep him close by, Carlos wasn’t sure. He’d devoted many hours to thinking about it, all to no avail so now he simply accepted it and tried to weather the storm as best he could.

He caught the prince looking at him and raised his eyebrows. “My Lord?”

Prince Jacob smiled and shook his head. “Just thinking.” He pulled Carlos close and kissed him again, laying a dozen soft little pecks along his jaw. With his face buried in Carlos’ neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin there, he murmured, “This has been the best day I think I’ve ever had. Thank you.” He looked up a little, then kissed Carlos’ mouth once more. “Do you think we could perhaps do this again?”

Carlos’ heart gave an odd leap within his chest and all of a sudden he was warm and content. Smiling against the prince’s soft lips, he mumbled, “As you wish, Your Highness. I think I’d like that very much.”

“Call me Jacob,” the prince said, his fingers dancing down Carlos’ stomach.

“I can’t,” Carlos said, scandalized. “You’re the prince. If I call you by your name, you could, I don’t know, throw me in a dungeon somewhere or something.”

The prince chuckled, his fingers reaching the laces of Carlos’ threadbare breeches. “I promise I won’t throw you into a dungeon.” His mouth descended back onto Carlos’ neck again before he muttered naughtily, “Unless you want me to.”

Carlos laughed out loud and allowed the prince, no, Jacob, to push him onto his back in the still mostly dry grass beneath the tree’s wide branches. “I can think of a few people I’d like to see thrown into jail.”

“Well,” Jacob said, tracing patterns on Carlos’ chest, “I can do that, too. I am the prince after all.”

Somehow they lost another hour or two to kissing and touching and leaning new things about what made them gasp and moan with pleasure. The sky was dotted with early evening stars when the prince finally clambered to his feet and pulled Carlos up with him.

“I have to go.” Jacob grimaced. “I wish you didn’t have to go back to that miserable farm.”

“I’ll be all right,” Carlos assured him. “At least now I have something good to think about when I’m in bed.”

Jacob smiled, those amazing eyes of his twinkling with glee. “Believe me, I’ll think about you, too.”

****

The ride home took far less time than Carlos wanted. Before he knew it, he was back in the farmyard and bidding Jacob goodbye. He could feel Max’s beady eyes on him, boring twin, malice-filled holes into his back. Doubtless he was staring out of the kitchen window, watching everything.

Jacob watched him dismount with an odd expression on his face. He looked half wistful, half determined. “I’ll come back,” he said fiercely, leaning down to speak to Carlos alone.

Carlos smiled with more confidence than he really felt. “I’d like that. Um. I won’t tell Max anything about what we did today. It’s not his business.”

Jacob nodded, “Thank you. I suspect people already think I’m nothing more than a playboy.”

“Are you?” Carlos asked cheekily and ducked the swipe Jacob aimed at him.

“Get back to work, boy,” Jacob growled in mock anger. His eyes were shining again and Carlos wasn’t sure why that made him so inexplicably happy.

“Yes, My Lord,” he grinned. “My pleasure, My Lord. Whatever you say, My Lord.”

Jacob’s gaze moved up to a point beyond Carlos’ shoulder and Carlos sighed. Max had made his appearance then. Nodding at him in a princely, slightly condescending manner, Jacob then proceeded to ignore him, looking back at Carlos with blinding intensity in his eyes.

“I’ll come back,” he said, low and vehement. “As soon as I can, I promise.” Glancing back up at Max, he spoke in a more controlled voice. “My thanks for the loan of Carlos today. He’s an excellent hunter, you should be proud of him. I may return again and request his help on more of my hunting trips.”

“He is, of course, at your disposal, Your Highness,” Max said, his oily tone making Carlos’ stomach turn. Even if Jacob wasn’t his handsome self, if he was old and fat and mean-spirited, Max would sell Carlos off to him as easily as he sold the pigs to slaughter.

Jacob narrowed his eyes but didn’t reply. With a last nod to Carlos, he wheeled his mare around and trotted out of the yard.

With him gone, Carlos felt as one does when the blazing sun vanishes behind a vast cloud, cold and lost and bereft. Goosebumps pebbled his skin and the evening breeze chilled him to the core.   
“Well?” Max raised an eyebrow at him and folded his arms across his chest. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Carlos replied, looking at the ground. “We hunted, that was it.”

Max cocked his head to one side but didn’t say anything more. Carlos tried to keep his expression impassive but as usual, felt like his stepfather could see every lie he’d ever told written plainly on his face.

“If he comes back again, I want to know everything you say and do with him, is that clear?” Malice lit up Max’s face. “If there’s any dirt to be found out about that pretty-boy prince, I want to know.”

So you can blackmail him and his father, Carlos thought sourly. Even if Jacob does have secrets, I’d never tell you. But he nodded and made an agreeing noise, anything else would land him trouble he really didn’t need.

Max smiled, sending another shiver down Carlos’ spine. “Well, I suppose you’d better get to work, you’ve got a day’s chores to catch up on before you go to bed. And don’t even think about looking for dinner until they’re done.”

Carlos glared at him but knew arguing was pointless. At least he’d have thoughts of Jacob to sustain him. He wondered what Jacob was thinking about as he rode home, and whether his father would quiz him on what he’d been doing all day.

Shaking his head in bemusement, he rubbed Adam’s horse down. He’d spent the day kissing a prince. Life was very odd sometimes.


	4. Chapter 4

The prince came back three days later and took Carlos out on another hunting trip. As before, they were gone all day and returned in the evening with little to add to Max’s cooking pot. Carlos insisted on leaving the brace of rabbits he’d caught with Bernice. Old Tom was past his hunting prime and her brothers were too young to provide much in the way of meat for their family, as hard as they tried.

Blushing and stammering, Bernice had smiled and bobbed her head as Carlos introduced Jacob. Old Tom’s eyes were huge and disbelieving and the younger children hid behind their mother’s skirts.

Jacob smiled kindly and said that he hoped they enjoyed the rabbits, before leaving the house. Carlos saw Bernice’s shoulders sag in relief as he went.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s the prince, you idiot, that’s what’s wrong,” she hissed. “You could have given us some warning.”

Carlos frowned. “It’s not as though he came to inspect the farm, he just came with me. He’s only a person.”

Bernice shook her head, “No, Carlos, he’s not. He’s the king’s son and you’re playing with fire. I don’t know what he wants from you but what happens if one day you don’t want to do what he asks? What will he do then? Probably throw you into jail to rot, or worse.”

“Bern,” Carlos said shortly, “I live with Max. Being in jail would probably be an improvement.” He glanced at Old Tom. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t think bringing him here would be a problem, I won’t do it again.” With that he turned on his heel and left, ignoring Bernice’s pained cry of “Carlos!”

Jacob smiled sadly as Carlos swung himself up onto his horse. “They’re scared of me aren’t they? I’m the big bad wolf, come to blow their house down.”

Carlos pursed his lips and expelled a breath through his nose.

“Don’t worry,” Jacob leaned across to squeeze his arm. “It’s happened before. People see the prince and forget that I’m just me. So far you’re the only one who remembers that I’m Jacob first and foremost. Maybe that’s why I like you.” Sliding halfway out of his saddle, he kissed Carlos sweetly.

“That the only reason?” Carlos said, a smile playing on his lips.

“I can think of a few more,” Jacob whispered, kissing him again. “I could explain them to you, in great detail. I can draw diagrams and everything. Would that be sufficient to buy me another day with you?”

“No need for payment,” Carlos said, quieting his horse, which had decided it didn’t like the shadows cast by the late afternoon sun. “I’m always here.”

“Mine for the taking?” Jacob grinned. His eyes twinkled with devilment, making Carlos’ brain gently fizz with ideas as to what they could do with another day to themselves.

“Always,” he replied simply.

****

Jacob dragged his feet as he approached his mother’s rooms. A summons from the queen couldn’t be ignored but he was almost shaking with excitement at the thought of heading out to see Carlos again. Given the choice, he’d have run out of the castle and seen his mother when he returned. But that was courting trouble and it was always best to stay on the queen’s good side.

“Jacob,” she smiled as he entered and gathered him into a warm embrace. “I’m glad my messenger caught you before you left.”

How does she always know what I’m doing, Jacob wondered. Does she have spies everywhere? He bent his head in a small bow and kissed her silky cheek dutifully.

“Can I help with something?” he asked, not really very interested in the answer.

“Actually, I might be the one to help you,” the queen smiled slyly. “I understand there’s a very lovely girl who is extremely anxious to meet you.”

“Sorry?” Jacob frowned. “Are you trying to set me up with a girl?”

“I’m your mother,” the queen replied. “I can do such things if I wish.”

Jacob closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. Oh, the dangers of an interfering mother. A royal, interfering mother. Double the threat.

“Now, don’t go getting all angry and sulky with me,” the queen said, smoothing down the silk of her peacock blue skirt. “You haven’t had many dealings with girls of your own caliber and it’s about time you got used to such things.”

“My own caliber?” Jacob echoed incredulously. “What are you talking about?” His mind went to Carlos. Technically they were as far apart on the social scale as it was possible to get, but he’d still sooner spend more time with him than with some air-headed wench who probably thought anyone who didn’t sleep on satin pillows was not worth the air they breathed.

“Give her a chance, Jacob,” the queen said firmly, picking up her embroidery. “ She’s a very lovely girl, comes from a good family. She’d be a fine match for you. Let me know when you’re free and I’ll arrange a meeting.”

Jacob opened his mouth to argue but she fixed him with the steely gaze which had been known to make the king shut up and agree with her. “Yes, fine, all right,” he blustered. “Can I go now? Or do you have the girl hiding in a closet, waiting to jump out and ambush me?”

“Don’t be facetious, darling,” the queen said mildly. “I’m doing you a favor. Now, run along, I’m sure you have better things to do than just stand there glowering at me.”

For once completely stumped for anything to say, Jacob turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. As he slammed the door behind him, he heard his mother call, “And by the way, her name’s Aisha.”

****

Max watched as the prince departed his yard, Carlos once again in tow behind him. Another day of hunting. He spat disgustedly, frightening a chicken which had ventured near his feet. Just what did those two get up to?

It had become a regular occurrence, every few days the prince arrived, with his perfect hair and perfect horse and perfect clothes, demanding that Carlos go out with him. Who did he think he was? He was only a whelp, no better than Carlos. He just happened to have been born as the king’s son. Max’s lip curled, a few good thrashings as a child might have cured him of the confidence that oozed out of every inch of him. If he’d been within Max’s reach...a cold smile pulled his lips back from his teeth. Dear Prince Jacob wouldn’t have been so cocky if he’d grown up fearing Max’s right arm. Not that regular beatings seemed to have destroyed Carlos’ stubbornness.

Running a hand over his chin, Max pondered. Carlos was almost eighteen, it was beyond doubt that as soon as he was a man, he’d leave the farm and head as far away as possible. Now he had his little royal friend, he’d probably make a beeline for the castle. Perhaps the princely whelp would help him, find him a job. Or perhaps Carlos would just go straight to his royal bedchamber. Max snorted, Carlos Alvarez, a prince’s whore.

Unease roiled through his gut. If Carlos had the prince’s ear, he’d doubtless complain about the treatment he’d received over the years. And just how much did he know about Max’s business dealings? Not everything he’d done was entirely legal and above board, did Carlos know that? Would he feel any kind of compassion as far as throwing Max, Adam and Henry to the wolves was concerned? Or would he watch them dragged off to prison with a smile on his face?

A cold calm settled over Max. Carlos was a liability. Or, more specifically, his friendship with the prince was a liability. He couldn’t touch the prince, he was far and beyond Max’s power. But Carlos...Carlos was still technically his to do with as he pleased. Carlos could be removed and perhaps the prince would forget about him, and about Max.

He nodded firmly, he had plans to make.

****

Carlos lay back on the soft, damp grass with a gasp. Jacob’s clever tongue speared into his navel, then continued on its lazy journey southwards. He wriggled his hips, trying to convince Jacob to move just a tiny bit faster, but the prince wasn’t one to be rushed when he had a plan in mind. Instead he rested his chin on Carlos’ hip and looked up at him, grinning playfully.

“In a hurry? Do you have somewhere else to be?”

Growling, Carlos planted both hands on top of Jacob’s head and pushed him down again. Jacob laughed and licked just above Carlos’ breeches, the tip of his tongue very pink against Carlos’ tanned skin.

Twisting his fingers into the grass, Carlos held on for dear life and tried very hard not to groan out Jacob’s name over and over as that talented tongue took him slowly apart. Afterward, while he was still trying to focus and remember that the world wasn’t really tinted with rose colored hues, Jacob grinned smugly and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket.

“Wha’s that?” Carlos muttered, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“My list of reasons why I like you.” Jacob waved the parchment at him happily. “I wrote it last night in bed.” He shot Carlos another naughty grin. “I could have been doing other things while thinking about you, but I thought you might like this.” He thrust it at Carlos, who took it with a sinking heart.

Blinking rapidly, Carlos frowned at the parchment. It was covered with handwriting which looked like a centipede had fallen in an ink pot and staggered drunkenly about. A few words stood out but the rest were no more than scribbles which meant absolutely nothing to him. It wasn’t that he couldn’t read, he knew the basics, but this was more involved than anything he’d ever needed to read before. Biting his lip, he flicked a quick glance up at Jacob, who was watching him hopefully.

“Is my writing that bad?” Jacob said, “I think my tutors are beginning to despair of me. See, I can remember things so I don’t often bother writing them down, so I suppose my handwriting is pretty terrible. Don’t practice it much.” He shrugged and went on, “Well, when you’re a king, people write things down for you, I’ve never even seen my father hold a quill. I don’t see why my teachers make such a fuss about having good writing.”

“Not your writing,” Carlos muttered, scratching his head.

“Oh,” Jacob said quietly. “Um, I didn’t think. Can you...I mean, not that I think you can’t, and there’s no shame in it if you...have you ever learned...I’ll just get rid of that.” He took the parchment from Carlos’ unresisting fingers and squashed it into a ball.

“Sorry,” he pulled Carlos close and kissed him roughly. “I’m an idiot, sorry.”

Carlos kissed him back for a moment before gently pushing him away a little. “It’s all right,” he said soothingly, seeing hurt flare in Jacob’s oh so expressive eyes. It wasn’t all right, shame was burning through him like the worst kind of fever. But he forced a smile and patted Jacob’s hand. “After my mother...well, after she was gone, Max didn’t see the need to send me to school with Adam and Henry. I know the basic things, but after Mama died, I didn’t get to learn anything more.”

Jacob’s face hardened. “I swear, one day I’m going to kill that man.”

“Me too,” Carlos said.

“It’s not fair,” Jacob went on, apparently not having heard Carlos. “Everybody should be able to go to school. I mean, what’s the point in my father spending a fortune on tutors for me if nobody else gets the chance to learn as well? Just because someone might not be, well, quite as rich as someone else, it doesn’t mean the richer person deserves more opportunities in life.” He pressed his lips together into a tight line. “When I’m king, I’ll make sure everyone gets to go to school, just you see if I don’t.”

Carlos smiled gently. “You’ll be a good king.”

“Hopefully,” Jacob picked up Carlos’ hand and idly played with his fingers. “Not like I have a lot of choice in the matter, really. I was going to be king the second I was born, hopefully people will leave me alone enough to let me be a decent one.”

Carlos wanted to ask, ‘what about me?’, ‘what happens to us, to this, when you’re king?’ but stilled his tongue. He was a barely literate farmboy, Jacob was going to be a king. Maybe it was better to just enjoy the sun while he could, before obligations and other people’s expectations made it vanish behind leaden clouds.

“I’ve got an idea,” Jacob said suddenly, threading his fingers through Carlos’.

Carlos raised an eyebrow.

“You teach me to shoot as well as you do and I’ll teach you to read,” Jacob’s smile was more dazzling than ever. Carlos wondered whether it would be rude to ask whether the prince had any fairy blood in him, surely no full-blooded human could ever be so beautiful.

“You don’t have to,” he mumbled, looking away from their intertwined fingers. “You’re busy, you can’t spend all your time with me.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want an excuse to spend as much time as possible with Jacob, but his proud side baulked at being a charity case.

Jacob chuckled. “You keep forgetting, I’m a prince. I can do whatever I want to. And I want to be with you. So there.” He stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry at Carlos, who couldn’t help but laugh as well.

Their laughter rippled away over the fields, a few sheep looked up indignantly.

“I should go back,” Carlos said regretfully. “Max is probably dying for me to give him a reason to lock me in the cellar again.”

“I’ll knock that house down one day,” Jacob said wrathfully. “And fill in that damn cellar.”

Carlos grinned, “Yes, please. But in the meantime, I really should go.” He made no move to get to his feet, leaving Jacob was getting harder every time.

Jacob rolled over to lie on top of him, his weight pressing Carlos down into the grass. A soft kiss was enough to make Carlos sigh and wrap his arms around the prince’s strong shoulders.

“Thought you were leaving,” Jacob muttered against his mouth.

“I am,” Carlos mumbled back, holding Jacob’s face between his palms and kissing him slow and sweet.

Some time later they both scrambled to their feet, late and rushed. Jacob’s fair skin was flushed pink and Carlos breathed as though he’d been running for half a day. He didn’t even make it to his horse before Jacob’s hands were on him again, pulling him close for another kiss, deep and longing.

“Getting dark,” Carlos managed to say. “Need to get home.”

“I suppose so,” Jacob sighed. “Mother will shout if I’m late for dinner again.”

“Oh no,” Carlos grinned, swinging himself up into his saddle. “How ever will you survive being shouted at?”

“Naughty,” Jacob chided, his eyes full of mischief. His fingers crept up Carlos’ thigh, under his tunic...Carlos’ horse snorted and stamped impatiently. Jacob gave it a narrow look. “Horse, stop trying to interrupt. This is important royal business I’m undertaking here.” He glanced back up at Carlos, who couldn’t ignore the butterflies writhing in his stomach. “Forging new relations, very delicate process, takes a lot of time and effort, personal contact is a must...getting to know people isn’t easy.”

His fingers walked a little higher and Carlos’ breath hitched in his throat. “Have to go,” he gasped. “Home.”

Jacob growled but took his fingers away. For a moment Carlos was tempted to call out for them to return, their sudden absence was like a bruise forming on his skin. But he mastered himself and kept his mouth shut. If he didn’t go now, he had a feeling he’d never go back to the farm again, and that would cause trouble neither he nor Jacob needed.

He waited patiently for Jacob to climb up into his shining saddle, his own fingers itching to sneak beneath that rich red cloak and map the hard plains of the prince’s body. He shook his head. Thoughts like that were dangerous, especially when he was a farmboy and Jacob was a prince. Surely there was no way the king would allow them to be...well, anything more than what they already were to one another.

“Ready to go?” Jacob smiled and Carlos’ worries vanished.

“Ready,” he replied, and together their turned their horses’ noses toward home.

****

If Carlos had been his usual observant self on the way back to the farm, he would have noticed the tiny sprinkles of sparkling dust which decorated the leaves of trees whose branches they ambled beneath. Jacob didn’t see them either, he was too taken up with watching Carlos’ long hair ripple and move in the breeze.

But they could be forgiven, for neither of them had ever seen real fairy dust. No-one had, not for at least three generations. The old kings had driven magic out of the kingdom, too lustful for its power and too frightened of those who knew how to wield it to allow the fairy elders to continue living in harmony with humans, as they had since before anyone could remember.

If the boys had known, perhaps they would have been excited, thrilled even, by seeing the first genuinely magical dust to grace the kingdom’s trees since well before they were born. But they were young and enamored of each other and too busy thinking of more human matters to notice sparkles on a leaf.

Perhaps if they’d seen it, they would have wondered why it graced their path, why it was intended for them, why a fairy had made the long journey back to the real world from the land of Fae for the first time in generations.

But Carlos was thinking of Jacob’s hands on him, burning away his worries with hot kisses which made his mind go blank. Jacob was wondering whether his parents would ever allow Carlos to dinner. He smiled at the thought of Carlos all dressed up in fine clothes, he’d be the most handsome thing ever to grace the castle.

The fairy watched them meander past her decorated trees and shook her head. Human were so oblivious sometimes.


	5. Chapter 5

Jacob came back to the farm more often as summer wore on, each day with Carlos seeming more gloriously golden than those around it. Carlos’ already tanned face and arms were nut brown by the time the harvest was in.

A strangely satisfying pleasure warmed Jacob’s chest as he thought of the parts of Carlos which weren’t tanned, the parts he got to touch and feel and run his tongue over. He might have dared to hope that he was the only one who got to touch those parts, but it was cruel to expect Carlos to be true to him when one day princely obligation would require Jacob to abandon him and marry some faceless girl he’d most likely never exchanged more than ten words with.

He thought of Aisha and his mother’s determination to get the two of them to meet. So far he’d been able to avoid seeing the girl by dint of constantly running away when he saw either his mother or any of her messengers approaching, but sooner or later she’d pin him down.

The thought of marrying Aisha or anyone else made Jacob’s stomach churn in horror but he knew his first duty lay to the kingdom. Ensuring that his family continued to rule had been his job since he was born, so marry he would, regardless of the fact that girls had never really done very much for him. It wasn’t as though anyone cared about men liking each other, it was perfectly acceptable in general society. But, he was a prince and a prince would one day be a king and a king needed an heir.

Was he using Carlos? Maybe a little. Jacob lay awake at night wondering whether it would be better to just pretend he’d never seen him. But then, in the morning, he’d find himself trotting eagerly toward the farm and his concerns would vanish until he was alone again. He knew he was getting dangerously fond of Carlos and it would hurt beyond all measure to one day give him up, but what else could he do? Duty came first, second and all the time. He was trapped.

So, he smiled at Carlos, drank in the sight of him and slipped his fingers beneath rough shirts and tunics to touch the hidden places he loved so much. The future could wait. For now he’d just enjoy what he had, and make sure he kept Carlos as close as he possibly could.

****

Henry’s mean little eyes glittered as he sat high in the tree which overlooked the road leading from the farm. Carlos had gone out again that morning with Prince Jacob, both of them looking ridiculously happy and shooting conspiratorial glances at each other from under their eyelashes.

It was sickening. What had Carlos done to deserve regular outings with a prince? What did he have that was so special? Had he cast some kind of spell on Prince Jacob? No, couldn’t be that. Carlos didn’t have the guts or the knowledge to use spells. All that rubbish about fairies and sprites and magic was just that, silly tales told by old women around campfires. Henry had more sense than to believe any of it.

He watched the two horses vanish into the distance. Prince Jacob’s voice reached his ears a few times before the wind changed and swept it away toward the sea. Grinding his teeth in chagrin, Henry wondered exactly what they got up to.

“You see anything from your perch?” his father’s voice floated up to him.

Henry looked down and replied, “They’re just heading down the road. Don’t know where they’re going.”

“Well, isn’t it about time you stopped moping over the fact the prince didn’t choose you and go and find out what they get up to?” Max said with exaggerated calm.

Henry smiled, “Yes, sir.”

****

“And what does this say?”

Carlos took a deep breath and stared at the parchment Jacob was holding up. “Given that you’ve drawn a picture of Firefly next to the word, I’m guessing it says ‘horse’?”

Jacob grinned, “Ha! You’ll be an expert reader in no time. And thank you for realizing that it was a horse. My valet said it looked more like a seal.”

Carlos squinted at the picture again, “Well, now that you mention it...”

Jacob tackled him and rolled them both into the dry grass. Carlos laughed and flipped them again, landing on Jacob’s stomach. After a few minutes of wriggling and squirming, Jacob flopped back limply on the ground and said, “All right. You win. Do with me what you will.”

Tracing the blade of his tongue around Jacob’s ear, Carlos said, “Am I the evil tyrant holding you prisoner? Where’s your handsome prince to come and rescue you?”

“Handsome princes are over-rated,” Jacob replied. “They’re unreliable. Can’t always trust that they’ll be there when you need one.”

Carlos frowned a little, the fun had gone from Jacob’s voice. “I trust you,” he said quietly, and pressed another kiss to the silky skin beneath Jacob’s ear.

Jacob’s hands were suddenly buried in Carlos’ hair. “I’ll always come for you.”

He pulled Carlos’s mouth down to his and kissed him until neither of them could breathe.

****

Carlos’ adventures behind the woodshed had been with both girls and boys, Henry knew that. He’d made it his business to know what Carlos got up to over the years. He didn’t care that Carlos seemed to like boys a little more than girls, that wasn’t important.

What was important was the fact that he was right there, sitting on top of Prince Jacob and kissing him like a floozy in a tavern. Henry had lots of experience of floozies, they were easier to deal with, no clinginess after the deed was done.

The prince threaded his hands through Carlos’ long hair and tugged him down for more kisses. Henry felt like he should probably look away, watching royalty do something like this was most likely some kind of crime. But try as he might he couldn’t drag his eyes away from the scene. It was a little hypnotic. The prince’s paler skin shone against Carlos’ black hair. Henry blinked, then shifted uncomfortably. He was sure his breeches hadn’t been so tight when he got dressed that morning.

He craned his neck to get a better look at the pair of them and nearly fell out of the tree he was precariously balanced in. Oh, his father was not going to be happy to hear that Carlos had more than just the prince’s ear. If they were together, who knew what kind of trouble Carlos could bring raining down on Max’s head? And of course, if he got Max into the king’s bad books, Henry and Adam would find themselves there too.

Henry bit his lip. That just couldn’t be allowed. He had plans, plans which didn’t involve working on a stupid farm his whole life. Living up at the castle looked like it might be entertaining, all he needed was to find a well-connected wife. But if Carlos got Max’s name into disrepute, no self respecting girl would look twice at him or his brother.

Running a hand through his hair and ignoring the usual stab of envy that it wasn’t as straight and flowing as Carlos’, Henry thought furiously. Carlos needed to be gotten rid of. He was too dangerous to be allowed to stay at the farm.

The bark burned his palms as he slid down out of the tree. He hit the ground with a thump and froze, expecting to hear the prince say, ‘What was that?’ But the only sounds were those of the birds in the hedgerow behind him, and a few slurping noises which he attributed to the pair rolling in the grass not far away.

Moving as stealthily as he could, he knew all about sneaking around, Henry made it back to his horse and led the animal a fair distance away before mounting and thundering back to the farm. Max would know what to do.


	6. Chapter 6

“Pooch!” Jacob stuck his head out of his room and yelled at the top of his voice. “Where are you?”

“Right here, Your Highness.”

Jacob grinned at his long-suffering valet. “Good, thought you’d gone out with that scullery maid again and abandoned me.”

“She is not a scullery maid, Your Highness,” Pooch said in a voice which proclaimed that he’d repeated this phrase more than once already. “She works in the kitchens. It’s a step up from the scullery.”

“I knew that,” Jacob turned back into his bedroom. “She’s the pretty one, isn’t she? The one who bakes those great blackberry and apple pies. What’s her name again?”

“Jolene,” Pooch replied, a fond smile pulling at his mouth.

Jacob raised his eyebrows. “And have you...you know?”

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Pooch said calmly. “That’s none of your business. Just because the whole kingdom knows about your bedroom antics, you don’t need to know about mine.”

Cackling with laughter, Jacob threw himself onto his bed and bounced a few times. He and Pooch had grown up together, they often forgot where the lines were drawn between their roles of prince and valet and bantered as nothing more than friends.

“Was there a reason you were yelling for me like a fishwife at market, Your Highness?” Pooch asked, watching Jacob bounce higher.

“Yes,” Jacob said mid-bounce. “I need your help.”

“As ever,” Pooch murmured. “What have you done this time? Who do I need to soothe?”

“Nobody,” Jacob replied. “I want to make something or do something to impress someone.”

“Would this be the mysterious someone you keep sneaking off to visit, by any chance?”

“I don’t sneak. And yes, it is.”

“What does she like?”

Jacob felt heat rush into his cheeks but kept his head high as he replied, “Not a she, he’s called Carlos.”

Pooch rolled his eyes in what Jacob hoped was affectionate exasperation. “Very well, what does Carlos like?”

“Um,” Jacob paused. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t really sure what Carlos would be impressed with.

“Well he’s good at hunting. He’s a great shot. And he can read the weather like nobody else I know. I’m teaching him to read and maybe one day he can come and work here. He lives with his stepfather, you see, but the man’s a mean bastard. Treats Carlos like crap, like he’s a servant in his own house, but Carlos can’t leave till he’s eighteen. He’s trapped, like me.” He dropped his gaze to his fingers, there was dirt still caked under his nails from his last outing with Carlos.

Pooch’s voice was gentle as he said, “Your Highness. I know it feels like you’re trapped here sometimes, but you’re important. You’ve got a job to do.”

“I know,” Jacob rubbed his eyes and drew his knees up to his chin. “But what if I don’t want to do it? What if I don’t much feel like being king? What if I want...” he stopped and rested his forehead on his knees. What if he wanted Carlos more than he wanted to do his job? What would happen then?

“Your Highness,” Pooch moved to sit on the bed next to Jacob, a respectful distance away but still closer than most people dared to get. “Not wanting to sound elderly and grand, but you’re still young. When you’re eighteen you’ll have more to do with the day to day running of the kingdom, your father can show you more things.”

Jacob pressed his lips together, deep down he didn’t really want to learn the ins and outs of kingship. But it was a ridiculous, naive idea. Princes went on to be kings, that was how it worked, how it had always worked. He didn’t have a choice, so maybe it was better just to accept it and move on.

Nodding, he drew a deep breath and looked at Pooch. “I know. I’m fine, don’t worry. Just pre-being king jitters. Now, what can I do to impress Carlos?”

***

Max rocked back on his heels in satisfaction. The messenger he’d hired was already cantering away from the farm, a precious letter in his saddlebag. With luck it would reach its destination within a week, after all he had paid the man extra to rush. If everything went according to plan, and there was no reason why it wouldn’t, Carlos might be on the other side of the kingdom by the end of the month. Well out of the reach of that snot-nosed prince.

Smiling, Max contemplated the letter in his hand, it once again refused to sell him the land to the west of his farm boundary. The couple who owned it were tough old birds, unwilling to leave the place where they’d raised their family. Max wrinkled his nose. Sentimental fools. Perhaps it was time he and his sons paid them a visit. Just to inform them of the many dozens of other pleasant places they could choose to live.

Soon, he thought. Soon Carlos would be out of the way and he wouldn’t have to worry about word of his dealings reaching the prince. Then life would be nigh-on perfect.

***

“Come on, tell me,” Bernice poked Carlos’ knee impatiently. “I want to know everything you and the prince get up to. He’s so dreamy, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as handsome as him...” she trailed off, drifting into daydreams.

“Hey,” Carlos shoved at her shoulder, perhaps a little more forcefully than he really needed to. He wasn’t jealous of Bernice thinking lustful thoughts about Jacob, he wasn’t, really. Well, maybe a little jealous. “Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.”

Bernice’s smile grew. “If you knew what I was thinking, you’d be running away screaming.”

Heat rushed into Carlos’ cheeks. Damn, she’d always been able to make him blush, even when they were kids.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” he said, folding his arms primly across his chest. Not that Jacob had been by for a few days, perhaps he was busy. _Or perhaps he’s growing tired of you_ , an insidious little voice in his head whispered. He pushed the thought away before it could get properly started.

“So there is kissing,” Bernice said delightedly. “Come on, tell me more. Does he like you? Does he say sweet things? Will he take you away from here? Can he take you to live in the castle? Do you think he’ll introduce you to his parents?”

A cold chill trickled down Carlos’ spine. Living in the castle would be a dream come true but, meeting the king and queen? He shuddered. That would be terrifying. He’d be bound to say the wrong thing and end up offending them. Then he’d probably find himself thrown into a dungeon. His chest was far too tight all of a sudden and breathing through his mouth didn’t help.

“Carlos,” Bernice’s hand on his arm made him jump. “Carlos, it’s all right. Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” he managed to croak.

“Everything will be wonderful,” she smiled. “Don’t worry. I think the prince likes you, and when a prince likes you, good things happen.”

Carlos forced a smile and nodded.

“Maybe I can come visit you when you live in the castle with the fancy folk.” Bernice’s eyes shone at the thought. “I might join the strolling players when I’m old enough, then I can come and sing for you and your prince. Maybe even for the king and queen. I’d make a good player, don’t you think?”

Cocking his head to one side, Carlos looked at her thoughtfully. Her dark hair hung in soft waves to her waist, her skin glowed with health and her brown eyes snapped and sparkled with mischief. Nodding again, he said, “Yes, I think you would. Assuming your singing doesn’t make dogs howl and cats run for cover.”

Bernice swung a hand at him, laughing. He dodged the half-hearted blow and chuckled too.

They sat in silence for a while after their laughter subsided, both gazing at the trees blowing gently in the breeze.

“Don’t forget about me,” Bernice said softly, her voice barely audible above the sighing of the wind. “When Prince Jacob takes you away. Don’t forget me.”

Choking back the lump in his throat, Carlos wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss onto her hair. “’Course not.”

“Best friends forever?”

Carlos nodded, his cheek rubbing against the dark waves. The companionable silence fell again, neither of them willing to break it this time. Carlos wondered how many more times he’d have the chance to sit with Bernice like this. Would Jacob take him to live in the castle? His heart positively quivered at the thought. It was exactly what he wanted most in all the world, but still, leaving Bernice would be a wrench.

“Hey, Ugly.” Adam’s voice broke into Carlos’ thoughts. He turned and saw his oldest stepbrother standing behind him.

“What?”

“Father wants you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Adam’s face twisted into its habitual sneer. “I didn’t presume to ask him. He said come find you, so here I am.” The sneer became a lecherous smirk as his eyes drifted over Bernice. “Afternoon, Bernice.”

She nodded politely but Carlos felt her edge further away. Adam scared her, always had. She said he had as black a heart as his father and Carlos wasn’t about to disagree. He quickly stood, placing himself in front of her, blocking Adam’s view.

“All right, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Adam shook his head, “No, he said I had to bring you back with me. Say goodbye to your girlfriend and let’s go.”

Every part of Carlos wanted to tell Adam what he could do with his orders but he’d learned long ago that annoying one of the boys meant annoying Max. And of course annoying Max was a very stupid idea as it meant he’d get a whipping later. So he turned to Bernice and smiled sadly. “I’d better go.”

She twined her fingers through his as she reached up to drop a soft kiss onto his cheek. “I hope you’re not in trouble. If you are, come see me when you can, I’ll get my mother’s special salve, that’ll help any bruises you’ve got.”

He made sure his face didn’t betray the apprehension which twisted his insides and squeezed her fingers lightly. “I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. See you soon.”

Walking down the dusty road with Adam felt wrong, all wrong. The older boy had never shown any kind of regard for Carlos, obviously thinking that a stepbrother was no more interesting than the kittens which were born in the barn now and then. Cold contempt was the only emotion Carlos had ever solicited from him.

Sometimes Carlos wondered whether it was all down to Max, had he poisoned Adam and Henry against him or were they both naturally as evil as their father? Either way, it didn’t really matter, he hated them all and longed for the day he’d be free of them.

As the farmyard came into view, cold fear replaced the anxiety in Carlos’ stomach.

“Who does that wagon belong to?”

Adam didn’t answer, keeping his eyes firmly on the road in front of his feet.

Carlos stared at the unfamiliar wagon and wondered what was going on. He also wondered whether now would be a good time to run away, but knew Adam would tackle him before he got too far.

Max strode out of the yard toward them, a broad smile on his face. Carlos swallowed, that smile had never yet meant anything good for him.

“Carlos,” Max actually opened his arms in welcome. “Perfect timing.”

Carlos looked from his stepfather to the snorting horses hitched to the rough wooden cart and took a step backward. “What’s going on?”

“Good news, Carlos,” Max said, a victorious gleam in his eyes. “I’ve found you a job.”

“Doing what?” Carlos asked. He pressed his hands to his thighs to stop their shaking. Max being in a jovial mood always preceded something Carlos wasn’t going to enjoy.

“Farm work. An old friend of mine needs some extra hands this summer. I told him you’d be more than willing to help.”

“Where’s the farm?” Carlos asked, eyeing the wagon again.

Max’s smile was slick and triumphant. Carlos knew the answer before the words left Max’s thin lips.

“Wade’s place, you remember Wade, don’t you?”

Oh, yes, Carlos remembered Wade. The man still occasionally haunted his dreams, striding through them with as much malevolence as Max. It had been quite a while since Wade had visited but the looks he’d thrown Carlos had sent him scurrying for cover, convinced that his virtue was in grave danger.

“I’m not going to Wade’s farm,” Carlos said flatly and turned to leave the yard.

Adam stepped in front of him, his burly arms crossed over his chest. Carlos’ fear began to turn to panic. Max’s boots thudded on the cobbles as he moved to stand behind him, so close his breath warmed Carlos’ neck.

“You’ll go where I tell you, boy.” It was more of a hiss than anything and Carlos fought to hide his shiver. “You’re going to Wade’s farm and that’s the end of it. No more little outings with that princeling of yours. No more whispering into his ear, no more telling him things I don’t want him to know. Out of sight, out of mind. He’ll forget about you before the new moon’s in the sky.”

Anger rushed through Carlos. So that was the plan, was it? Get him out of the way in the hope that Jacob forgot about him. His fists clenched at his sides, he needed to do something, fight back in some way but what could he do? He was outnumbered and if he tried to fight, Adam was much bigger than him. He’d be flat on his back nursing a black eye in no time.

He turned to face Max instead, schooling his face into a hard mask and hoping his fear didn’t show through. “Jacob won’t forget me.” He wasn’t completely certain he spoke the truth, but plowed on regardless.

“He’ll come looking for me and he’ll find me. And when he does I’ll tell him everything I know about every deal you’ve ever made. I know about all the land-grabbing and the throwing people out of their houses. I know you use Adam and Henry as your muscle to threaten people. I know a lot about a lot of things and Jacob will make sure the king hears about you, too. Even if you send me to Wade, I’ll escape. I’ll find Jacob and we’ll come back and drag you in front of the king. It’s about time someone reminded you that you’re not anyone important.”

Max stepped even closer, his nose was practically touching Carlos’. Carlos bit the inside of his mouth, determined not to flinch, whatever his stepfather said.

“You are a brave little rabbit, aren’t you?” Max said softly and chuckled. “You should have been my son. We could have done good things together.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Carlos spat.

“Sadly, no, you’re not,” Max sighed. “You’re an interfering goody two-shoes and you just overstepped your boundaries.” He nodded at Adam over Carlos’ shoulder. “You know what to do.”

Before Carlos had time to open his mouth to yell, Adam’s hands wrapped around his wrists and pulled them sharply behind his back. Henry’s voice appeared from out of nowhere, he must have been watching the proceedings, waiting for Max’s signal to get involved.

“Poor little Carlos, shipped away to Wade. The prince won’t ever know what happened. We’ll just tell him you upped and ran off. Do you think he’ll cry over you? You’ll cry over him, I’ll bet, ‘cause you’re nothing but a baby.”

As he spoke, Henry twisted rope around Carlos’ wrists, binding them tightly together. Wriggling and struggling did nothing to help Carlos’ cause, but lashing out with a foot made him feel a little better. Adam grunted in pain as Carlos caught his knee, then moved in front of him, landing a stinging backhanded blow across his face.

Together, the two older boys bodily picked Carlos up and threw him onto the back of the rough wagon. As soon as he got his feet under him, Carlos scrambled up and tried to jump right back off, but Henry leaped at him and held him down while Adam tied his feet together.

“Let me go!” Carlos yelled, fear lending extra volume to his voice. “You sons of motherless bitches, let me go! I’ll see you all in jail for this, just you wait! The prince will come and he’ll tear this place apart looking for me.”

Adam grimaced and glanced at his father. “Can’t we do something about him? Do we have to listen to that all the way to Wade’s place?”

“Gag him,” Max said, lifting a shoulder disinterestedly. “Just make sure he gets to Wade. Then get back here. We’ve got work to do. I think the old fools who own the land down the road need some more convincing that my offer for their house is a fair one.”

Both boys laughed nastily, Adam cracked his knuckles.

A wave of despair so sharp it stung at his very heart washed over Carlos as Henry tied an old cloth over his mouth. What could he do? He was tied up, helpless and about to be sent to the other side of the kingdom. Even if he managed to get away from Wade’s farm, it would take him weeks to trek back to the castle on foot.

The wagon lurched as Adam and Henry climbed up to take their seats behind the horses. A man Carlos didn’t know took the reins, presumably he and the wagon both belonged to Wade. He glared at Max as the horses began to plod forward. Max smiled and waved, then turned away and went into the house.

Carlos watched as the farm he’d had no choice but to call home slowly vanished into the distance. When it was lost over the horizon, he let his head drop to the wooden floor of the cart and willed himself not to cry.

***

“It’s ready, it’s ready, come on, Pooch, out of the way...” Jacob babbled excitedly as he hopped around the carriage. “Carlos will love this.”

“Do not break it,” Pooch said seriously, trying to catch his prince’s eye. “I mean it. Your Highness? Your Highness. Hey!” He grabbed both of Jacob’s shoulders and tried to hold him still. “Your father will probably have me banished if you break this carriage. I’m not supposed to let you use it.”

“Oh, Pooch,” Jacob knocked Pooch’s hands away and looked admiringly at the springs the valet had added between the rear wheels. “You worry too much. So these springs, they make it more comfortable, is that right?”

“In theory they should absorb some of the shocks you get riding on rough roads with wooden wheels,” Pooch replied.

Jacob hid a grin, it was always easy to distract Pooch by talking mechanics with him. “Shock absorbers,” he said happily. “I think we should patent that, it’s a good name.”

Pooch shook his head and muttered under his breath as he lay on his back and made a few final adjustments to the underneath of the coach.

“Fine,” he finally said. “It’s safe to use, I hope your Carlos likes it. Tell him it took me hours to get the thing working again, the king hasn’t used it in so long, the grease on the axles had started to seize.”

“So he won’t notice if I just take it out for the afternoon, will he?” Jacob said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “No banishing of the Pooch, I promise. What would I do if you were gone? It’d be anarchy around here without you.”

“A prince causing anarchy,” Pooch muttered. “By the fairies, what did I do to get lumbered with you?”

“You love me really,” Jacob grinned.

Pooch smiled back, they both knew it was true.

“So, are you going to go and give pretty Jolene a tumble while I’m gone?” Jacob asked cheekily, then danced out of the way of Pooch’s wrath. “Can I be your best man when you marry her? I know how to throw a good party.”

“Haven’t even asked her yet,” Pooch growled.

“But you’re going to?” Jacob stopped moving, a delighted smile on his face. “Pooch! That’s wonderful.”

“Only wonderful if she says yes and she won’t if I don’t get to see her very often, will she?”

“Oh, right, of course.” Jacob dragged Pooch into a quick hug and slapped him on the back. “Well done all the same.”

“Thank you,” Pooch said and returned the hug. “Now how about you go and see Carlos and stop bothering me?”

Jacob bounced from foot to foot, barely able to contain his excitement. Hopefully Carlos would be impressed with the carriage. Very few people besides the king and queen ever even saw it, much less rode in it. Technically it was supposed to be used for state occasions only, but one afternoon out wouldn’t do any harm would it?

“There,” Pooch said, stepping back and wiping his hands on his shirt. “All ready. I say again and with complete seriousness, please do not break it. And don’t go off the road in it. I remember the fiasco of your mother’s buggy, it was never the same after you drove it. Neither were the horses.”

“I won’t go on rough ground,” Jacob promised. Pooch didn’t see that his fingers were firmly crossed behind his back. Perhaps Carlos might enjoy going for a ride through the fields in a king’s coach. Maybe once they found a deserted enough place, they could...well, christen the plush velvet seats. Jacob rubbed a hand over his face to remove the goofy smile he knew was on his lips. “All right, time to take this thing for a ride. Thank you, Pooch. I’ll give you the best wedding party the kingdom has ever seen.”

Pooch muttered something in a worried tone which Jacob chose to ignore. They soon got the four horses required to pull the carriage into place and Jacob clambered up into the driver’s seat.

“Be careful with it, please?” Pooch said beseechingly.

“Don’t worry,” Jacob grinned. “You go and say hello to Jolene. Give her a kiss from me.” He snapped the long reins and laughed gleefully as the carriage moved smoothly forward and out of the stable yard. Carlos was going to love it.

***

Jacob did try to be good on the ride to Carlos’ farm, he really did. But the carriage was just so well made, it handled brilliantly and it really did seem a shame to condemn it to road use only. Plus, if he was going to take Carlos out, he had to know how to drive it, didn’t he? At least that was his excuse. Truth be told, he just wanted to take it over some rough ground and dirty it up a little, it was so very clean, it looked unnatural.

When he finally steered the horses into the farmyard, an instant feeling of disquiet stole over him. Something was wrong. The four horses in front of him were making enough noise to wake the dead, so where was Carlos? Why hadn’t he come out to meet him? Was he locked in the cellar again? Jacob ground his teeth, Max was going to pay for every wrong he’d done to Carlos, maybe not today, but soon.

“Hello?” he called, his voice very loud in the still, quiet air. “Carlos?”

Max appeared from around the side of the stableblock. “Ah, Your Highness, how nice to see you again.” He bowed and Jacob caught the mocking quality of the smile on his face.

“Where’s Carlos?” he asked, after a brief inclination of his head which he figured was sufficient greeting for someone like Max.

“I regret I do not know, Your Highness,” Max said, lifting his palms toward the sky.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Jacob frowned.

“He ran away.” The sad expression on Max’s face was just a shade too satisfied to be sincere. “I have not heard from him for days, I hope he is all right.”

“Why did you not send me word?” Jacob said through gritted teeth. His stomach seemed to have fallen into his boots. Carlos wouldn’t simply run away. Would he? No, Max was lying, he’d done something with him. Carlos wouldn’t run off and leave him. Unless he changed his mind about being with him. Perhaps fooling around with a prince lost its appeal after a while.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” Max’s smooth voice over-rode Jacob’s worries. “I did not know how to contact you.”

‘Liar!’ shrieked the voice in Jacob’s head.

“Carlos has run away before,” Max went on, the worried look back on his face. “He is headstrong, just like his mother. He has always come back, though. I hope he does so this time. Of course, perhaps this time he had different reasons for running.” He dropped his eyes from Jacob’s in a show of deference.

Jacob clenched both hands on the reins he was still holding. ‘Different reasons for running’, huh? Trying to shift the blame for Carlos’ disappearance onto his shoulders. No, it made no sense for Carlos to run. He’d be eighteen in a few months, he’d managed to survive Max’s wrath this long, why give up and run away now? It was a stupid thing to do and Carlos was far from stupid.

“How long has he been missing?” Jacob said, trying to keep his anger from showing on his face.

“He left three days ago, my Lord.”

Jacob bit his lip. He’d bet all the money in the kingdom’s treasury that Carlos hadn’t left the farm of his own free will.

“Where do you think he might have gone?” he ground out, humoring Max seemed like his only option. Not that he expected to get anything useful out of the man, but it was worth a try.

Max lifted his palms again, playing the worried father to a tee. “I wish I knew, Your Highness. I’ve been waiting for you to visit, I thought perhaps you might have more ideas about where he’d run to. You have been seeing quite a bit of each other recently.”

Jacob didn’t answer. Wherever Max was keeping Carlos, it wouldn’t be easy to find. He needed help. Fixing Max with a glare, he said, “That cellar of yours better be empty.”

“I assure you, my Lord, there is nothing there except for a few old wine casks.”

It seemed likely that Max was telling the truth. If he was going to try to get rid of Carlos, he’d have a better hiding place figured out than his own cellar. Jacob leaned down from the carriage seat and hissed, “Whatever you’ve done with him, I’ll find him and I’ll make you pay. If you’ve hurt him, I’ll kill you.”

Max’s eyes hardened, though his voice remained calm and measured. “I’ve done nothing with him. I am as worried about his disappearance as you, my Lord.”

Jacob didn’t reply, but concentrated on getting the team and carriage out of the farmyard as swiftly as possible. He needed to talk to his father, right now.


	7. Chapter 7

“Franklin Clay?” The fairy twittered hopefully and hovered, her shining wings beating as fast as a hummingbird’s.

“Who wants to know?” Clay glanced up at the little being with a distinctly unfriendly look on his face. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

He was sitting at the edge of a pool, his bare feet dangling into the clear water, a fishing pole in his hand. The fairy drew a sharp breath. “Fishing in the sprite pools is not allowed, Godfather Clay. The sprites are few in number as it is and removing their food source will only harm their population.”

Clay laughed, low and unpleasant. “Greedy little bastards. They can spare me a fish or two. They won’t starve. If they do, they’ll just come crawling to you and the fairy Elders and ask for more, won’t they?” His words were followed by a loud belch.

The young fairy spied a bottle of elven wine nestled in the grass beside him. She flew a few inches higher, out of Clay’s reach, just in case.

“Godfather Clay,” she said formally, determined to complete her errand. “The Fae council wishes to speak with you immediately. They requested that I come and find you and bring you back with me.”

Clay didn’t reply, but swigged more wine from the flask.

“Godfather Clay,” the fairy said again. “Do you understand? You are being summoned...”

“I understand,” Clay said heavily, clambering to his feet. “The council have a job nobody else wants, so they’re giving it to me. ‘S’happened before. I get the lousy jobs.”

He leaned conspiratorially toward the alarmed fairy. “Never apply to the godparent bureau. The work sucks and the pay is terrible. You have to spend all your time with humans and most of the time they don’t even appreciate what you’re doing for ‘em.”

“Yet you are perfectly suited to pass undiscovered among humans,” the fairy replied. “You look like one.”

“Used to look like you,” Clay growled. “Applied to be a godfather and now I look like this.” He spread his arms wide and glared down at his apparently human body. “’Least I still got wings.”

Large shimmering wings blossomed from his back. They were dark green and held only a very faint trace of fairy dust.

The young fairy put a hand to her mouth. She hadn’t realized Clay was quite so old. A fairy’s wings started out white and doused with dust to strengthen them. Over time they slowly darkened and changed color, the fairy dust fell away as they grew stronger and their owner’s powers increased. To have reached the deep forest green they currently were, Clay had to be at least...

“Four hundred,” Clay rumbled, faint amusement in his dark eyes. “That’s what you were wondering, isn’t it?”

The little fairy nodded.

Clay snorted and smiled. “Don’t suppose you’d feel like meeting me later to finish off this wine?”

She flew upward another inch. Rumor about Godfather Clay’s liking for the female forms of practically any being were rife in the Fae council.

“I don’t think so,” she squeaked. “I’m seeing someone from the wand and charm department.”

Rolling his eyes, Clay drained the flask and threw it over his shoulder. It landed in the pool with a splash, soaking the unfortunate sprite which had just gathered enough courage to venture out into the open.

After another belch and a prolonged bout of scratching, Clay looked around and said, “Fine. I’m ready.”

The fairy gladly led the way out of the enchanted forest. She was definitely asking for a raise before going to find any more wayward godfathers.

****

Clay stared impassively around the main Fae council chamber. It was beyond impressive, all shining walls, shimmering colors changing with the angle of the sun and tasteful scrollwork on the archways but he’d seen it before.

The elven wine was threatening to give him a terrible headache and he really wasn’t in the mood to stand before the council and listen to another of their endless complaints about his behavior. But, he was a fairy godfather and sometimes had to follow orders. He rubbed his eyes. At times he wondered whether it wouldn’t have been easier just to stay in the forest and cavort with the wood nymphs all day and night. He smiled as the memory of one particular party came back to him. Three nymphs, he was fairly certain they’d all been female, and him in a sprite pool for hours with an endless supply of elven wine and some very interesting mushrooms. That had been a good party.

But, as a young fairy he’d been ambitious and determined to make a difference and had come running to the godfather bureau. He shook his head, stupid idea. It was all paperwork and ‘you can do this but not that, and you can’t let any human see your wings and never ever tell anyone where the entrance to the fae lands is...’ Did they think he was dumb? Most of the humans he was assigned to didn’t deserve magical help anyway, but did anyone ever ask him his opinion? Of course not.

The council members stared at him, sharp and inquisitive. Clay stared back, knowing they hated that. Eventually, one of them said, “Godfather Clay. How nice of you to come so promptly.”

Clay grunted. Antagonizing his bosses might not be the cleverest idea but it was the best sport he could come up with right now. Plus he’d always had a slightly crazy side to his personality which wondered how far he could push people.

“Clay,” one of the smallest fairies on the council put down his quill and fixed him with a glare. “As you are doubtless already aware, we have summoned you here because you have a job for you.”

Clay wiped his nose with his sleeve. Would the old coot get mad at him, he wondered. The council member looked a little disgusted but plowed on regardless.

“There has been a shift in the human world, the young prince, I believe his name is Jacob, has met his one true love.”

“Good for him,” Clay said. “What’s it got to do with me?”

“His true love has been kidnapped.” A larger fairy spoke and Clay transferred his attention. “We believe it would be better for the humans if the prince and his love were reunited.”

“Hmm.” Clay stroked his chin and inwardly winced at the amount of stubble he found. How long had it been since he shaved? He must look like a bit of a tramp. Not that he usually minded looking bad, the serene aura of the council chambers must be getting to him. He cleared his throat, “So what do you want me to do? Go over there and zap his true love back to him?”

“Unfortunately it isn’t quite that easy.”

Clay closed his eyes for a second. Of course it wasn’t that easy, it if was that easy, they would have given the job to someone else. “What makes it so difficult?”

The first council member spoke up again, his voice high and twittery. “We need the prince’s love rescued from the hands of some rather ruthless humans, then, for safekeeping, he should be taken to the castle.”

Groaning as the council gave one a job wasn’t really considered to be good manners but Clay couldn’t help it. “The castle? Really? You do realize I’ll be on foot and practically helpless as soon as I’m within a mile of the place?”

“We realize that.” Every member of the council leaned forward, their faces still and serious. “The warding spells cast on the castle were very strong and have not faded with time.”

“Human paranoia,” Clay spat. “If they don’t want magic near their precious king and queen, why should we bother helping their brat find his true love?”

“Because it is the right thing to do, Godfather Clay.” The fairy who spoke drew himself up to his full height and stared down his nose at Clay. “And because this union may well be the beginning of a new period in human-Fae relations. We’ve already been out in the kingdom, sprinkling fairy dust to ease the prince’s path into true love. Sadly it doesn’t seem to have worked. Carlos, Jacob’s love, is far away from the castle and in need of help. He is much more open to magic than many humans, if he and the prince are together, we feel it may be beneficial to re-building peace between our peoples.”

Clay snorted with inelegant laughter. “You want me to go make peace? You do know my record, don’t you?”

“We are well aware of your brawling capabilities, Clay. On this job, they may come in useful.”

Clay was sure he saw a few mouths twitch with swiftly hidden smiles. Shaking his head, he rolled his shoulders and said, “Fine. Where do I go and when?”

“All the details will be given to you by the intelligence department,” a sharp-eyed fairy said. “But before you go, we have something else to tell you.”

“If the nymphs are pregnant, it wasn’t me,” Clay said instantly.

A collective sigh of despair at his behavior rustled around the chamber before the same fairy spoke again. “No, we have not heard of any more reports of pregnant nymphs. This concerns your mission. We feel that it is time you took on more of your Godfatherly responsibilities and accepted an apprentice. As such, we have a suitable candidate ready to go to the human world with you.”

Before Clay could open his mouth to protest, the fairy clicked his fingers. A door appeared in the wall nearby and another Godfather walked into the room. At least, Clay assumed he was a Godfather. He looked more like a human prize fighter. Easily as tall as Clay, he was broad shouldered and muscle bound and gave off an aura of being ready to fight at a moment’s notice. His dark skin shone under the ever changing light from the enchanted walls and his black eyes glittered dangerously.

Clay smiled. This could actually be fun. He’d never seen the godfather before but he could always sense a fellow troublemaker and this fellow seemed made to create ructions and ruffle people’s feathers.

“Godfather Clay, meet Apprentice Godfather Roque.”

Clay held out a hand, Roque took it and they engaged in a little mutual crushing of fingers. When they broke apart, Roque’s expression had gone from disgusted resignation at his fate to grudging respect and possible amusement.

“All right, I’ll take him with me,” Clay said, stifling a laugh at the surprised looks on the council members’ faces. Obviously they’d expected him to be kicking and screaming about having to deal with an apprentice. Normally he would be but he got the impression that having Roque around might be both useful and entertaining.

Roque grunted but didn’t actually say anything. Clay began to like him more and more. Idle conversation wasn’t something to be encouraged, if the guy knew when to hold his tongue, they’d get along just fine.

“Good,” said one of the council members, standing up and shuffling pieces of parchment busily. “If you’d be so kind as to visit the intelligence department, they’ll give you all the information you require. Have a good trip, gentlemen.”

Clay nodded and left the chamber, Roque trailing after him. He didn’t really feel like getting another pair of errant lovers together but hey, it was better than fishing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some violence coming along here, people. It's aimed at Carlos.

The hut door slammed shut and plunged Carlos into almost total darkness. A few weak bars of light from the windows of Wade’s house made it through the gaps in the rough wooden walls, but it was still impossible to see much beyond the tip of his own nose.

With his hands stretched out in front of him, he made his way unsteadily to the bed, finally finding it when his shin made contact with the frame.

“Damn,” he muttered and sat down. Heaving a sigh, he stretched his arms up over his head and hissed as sore muscles protested at the activity. How long had he been at Wade’s farm now? Was it a week? No, must be more than that, surely his shoulders wouldn’t ache this much if he’d only been working for a week.

At least Wade hadn’t tried to corner him yet, a few lascivious glances had been thrown his way but that was it. Most of the people on the farm treated him like an unwanted puppy, they either ignored him completely or kicked him. It was depressing, no, it was more than depressing, it was soul destroying.

He was working harder than he’d ever worked before. Wade’s men rousted him out of bed before dawn and didn’t let him stumble back there until long after darkness had fallen. He spent his days out in the fields or helping around the yard and farmhouse. There was always someone nearby, so chances to escape were few and far between. At least they fed him, that was the one high point in the whole sorry mess of his life.

Not long after Adam and Henry had left him in the fairy-forsaken place, Carlos had seen an opportunity to escape and seized it with both hands. Sadly, the people who lived around Wade’s farm either worked for him or were too scared of him to help Carlos, so he was caught within a day and dragged back to Wade. He genuinely thought he was about to get the beating of his life but Wade simply laughed and ordered an extra lock to be put on the hut he slept in.

The second time he ran away, Wade was less tolerant. The third time Carlos knew he’d made a mistake. After being once again caught, this time hiding in a hayloft of a farmer he mistakenly thought was brave enough to not betray him, the atmosphere changed.

Wade’s men dragged him into the comfortable farmhouse and threw him to the floor in front of their boss, who was reclining in a chair by the empty fireplace. Growling, Carlos made to rise to his feet but rough hands on his shoulders pushed him back down to his knees and held him there.

“Get off me!” he snapped angrily, trying to shrug them off.

“Shut up,” Wade said softly.

Carlos glanced up, saw the look in his eyes, and fell silent. Damn. Making Wade angry wasn’t a good idea, as he’d seen in the past. Biting the inside of his mouth, Carlos didn’t say anything more but glared defiantly at the older man.

Wade smiled and leaned forward in his chair. “You are a real pain in my ass. No wonder Max wanted rid of you. I don’t know why he didn’t just kill you, I would’ve.”

A cold shiver touched Carlos’ spine but he ignored it. He might be scared but he was also damned if he was going to let them see it.

“But,” Wade pushed himself out of his chair and stood, towering over Carlos, “Max wants you alive for some reason. I’ve learned it’s best to just go along with your stepfather when he wants something.”

He squatted in front of Carlos and gripped his chin between thumb and forefinger. “However, Max didn’t say anything about you enjoying your stay here. You’ve had it easy so far, but I think we need to change that. Constantly running away, that’s bad manners, you know. You’re abusing my hospitality. Plus you’re making me look bad to the clods who live around here. And what’ll Max think when he hears that I can’t control one seventeen year old? You’ll ruin my reputation.”

Carlos tried to jerk his chin out of Wade’s grip but failed. Wade tightened his fingers and leaned in close, his warm breath falling onto Carlos’ cheeks. Flinching wasn’t a good idea when Wade’s lips trailed over his, but Carlos couldn’t help it.

“You did this to yourself. You know why? Because you’re stupid and you think you can be a hero.” Wade released Carlos and stood up, wiping his hands on his breeches. When he spoke his voice was confusingly mild, “Don’t run away again.” His gaze switched to the burly men still holding Carlos on his knees. “Don’t do too much damage, he needs to be able to earn his keep.”

With that he strode out of the room, leaving Carlos confused for a split second before a boot swung into his stomach. Retching and coughing, he doubled over, unable to curl his arms over his now aching body as the goons were still holding them back.

“Take it in turns?” A deep voice asked, sending a wave of near-panic surging through Carlos. A fist connected with his jaw before he could form fully fledged thoughts, sending starbusts skittering behind his eyelids.

“Sounds good,” another voice answered. “Don’t break him though, you heard what the boss said.”

Carlos snarled and pulled against the men holding him but achieved nothing apart from painfully wrenching his shoulders. Another kick to the chest had him coughing again and this time a high, involuntary whine made its way out of him as he fought to deal with the pain.

It seemed to go on forever, but could only have been a few minutes. One hard jab to his eye had it swelling shut and throbbing. Luckily his nose didn’t break but his stomach was sore and painful and he knew walking the next day would be nigh-on impossible. Eventually the cruel voices laughed and declared that he’d had enough. Carlos was beyond caring at that point, all he wanted to do was curl up in a corner and catalog his wounds.

They dragged him back to his little hut and threw him inside, not bothering to check whether he was still conscious. Lying motionless on the floor, Carlos concentrated on simply breathing. The darkness around him was almost soothing. After a while, he knew he had to get up onto the bed or he’d be sleeping where he was, and that’d hurt even worse in the morning.

Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself to his feet and fell onto the narrow cot. The rough blankets felt like silk beneath him and he groaned. Every part of him throbbed, his eye and stomach worst of all. It took him a long time to find a position he could rest in without a lot of discomfort, but he eventually found one.

Breathing shallowly so as not to put too much stress on his abused muscles, Carlos wondered whether Jacob was looking for him. All this being a damsel in distress was far less fun than the old tales made it out to be. Waiting for a prince to come and rescue him frankly sucked. How long would he be there? Would Jacob ever find the little farm out in the middle of nowhere? Would he give up trying after a while?

Carlos let his one good eye flutter shut. It hurt too much to think about Jacob. Using sheer willpower, he forced memories of Jacob’s fingers sliding under his shirt away into the dark corners of his mind. Instead he concentrated on imagining increasingly unpleasant ways to get revenge on Wade.

Eventually exhaustion, fear and shock took their toll and he fell asleep.

***

“Father!” Jacob’s furious yells echoed around the castle on daily basis. Everyone who heard them ducked their heads and scurried away. Prince Jacob was a fearsome soul to be near when he was in a mood. These days he was always in a mood.

“Father! Mother!” Jacob shoved the doors to his parents’ private rooms open and stormed in. He’d been doing this since the day he’d realized Carlos was missing, with limited success, but he couldn’t think of what else to do. “Father, where are you? I need to talk to you!”

Queen Valentina came out of a doorway and sighed when she saw him. “Jacob, when will you learn that you simply don’t shout for a king to come and see you?”

“When he listens to me and does something to help,” Jacob growled through gritted teeth.

“Your father has already explained why he can’t help,” the queen said gently. “Private family matters are best left alone, getting involved in them only ever ends up causing more trouble. If this young man...” she trailed off, obviously casting around to find Carlos’ name.

“Carlos,” Jacob said. “See? You can’t even remember his name. Why doesn’t anyone care that he’s been kidnapped? Just help me find him, please.” His voice had gone from angry to pleading but it didn’t seem to be having any effect on his mother.

“If Carlos has been sent somewhere by his stepfather, that’s the man’s right,” the queen went on, unruffled by Jacob’s desperation. “Carlos isn’t yet responsible for his own decisions, so his stepfather is allowed to do what he wants with him.”

“Stupid, stupid rule,” Jacob spat. “First thing I’ll do when I’m king is get rid of it.”

Valentina drew herself up to her full height and glared at him. “I appreciate your ardor and commend your reasons but do not forget that for you to be king, your father must first be dead.”

“Sorry,” Jacob mumbled, looking at his feet. His mother always managed to make him feel like a naughty six year old. “But I just...help me, Mother, please. I can’t just forget about Carlos, he could be in real trouble. I need to help him, I need to _find_ him.”

The queen’s expression softened and she pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “I know. I do remember what it feels like to be in love. But right now, we really do have more important things to worry about than finding one lost boy. We have a kingdom to run and that must take priority. You are a prince with responsibilities. You should be learning from your father, you’ll need all of his diplomacy one day.”

Jacob nodded miserably. He’d been hitting this same barrier every day for the past few weeks and it was starting to wear him down. Maybe he should just go out on his own and look for Carlos himself.

His mother wrapped a hand around his forearm and said, “Jacob? Stop worrying. If Carlos is meant to come back to you, he will. But for now, we have a ball to plan.”

Jacob groaned and thunked his head against a wall. _Not the ball again, please._

“Now, now,” the queen said reprovingly. “It’s your birthday ball and it needs to be planned.”

“Don’t want a ball,” Jacob ground out. “Want to find Carlos.”

“Angel, we don’t always get what we want,” Valentina said gently and kissed his forehead. “Come on, help me with preparations for the ball and then we’ll go and talk to your father. Perhaps he might spare you a troop of men to go and hunt for your missing Carlos.”

She didn’t mean what she said, Jacob knew it, but he followed her anyway. Blind hope was better than no hope at all.

“Have you spoken with Aisha yet?”

“No,” Jacob sighed, really not in the mood to once again dodge his mother’s suggestions that he meet the ‘lovely Aisha’.

“Darling, you should give her a chance.” The queen faced him, her hands on her hips. “I’m only thinking of you.”

“No, you’re not,” Jacob spat, unable to keep the words behind his teeth. “You’re plotting to marry me off and get lots of fat little babies so that there’s no doubt our line will continue. If you were thinking of me, you’d help me find Carlos.”

Valentina pursed her lips and looked severe, but Jacob noticed that she didn’t deny plotting. After a moment she stroked his hand and sighed. “Meet Aisha, Jacob. For me?”

“No.” Jerking his hand out of hers, Jacob turned and left, almost bowling over a pretty young maid in the process.

***

Clay shuffled the parchment through his hands, the paperwork was always the killer on these ‘separated lovers’ jobs. Roque stood a few paces away, watching him carefully.

“If you’re expecting me to act like I want to train you up, think again.” Clay muttered.

“Nah,” Roque said dismissively. “Just wondering how long we have to wait before we get out of this place.”

Clay smiled. “Ready and eager, huh?”

“Bored out of my skull, morelike,” Roque flashed a quick grin back. “I figured there’d be more...action involved in being a godfather.”

A deep, wry chuckle made its way out of Clay’s chest. “Action? Here? No. You’re in the wrong place, friend. Here they bury you in parchment before you even get out into the human world.”

“But out there with the humans, it’s different, isn’t it?” Roque’s face didn’t give much away but his voice was bordering on eager.

Clay cocked his head to one side and looked at the younger godfather. “How old are you?”

Roque stiffened. “What’s that got to do with...”

“Just indulge me,” Clay interrupted. “And remember that I give the orders around here, you’re just tagging along for the ride. Tell me how old you are and show me your wings.”

“You’re an ass,” Roque muttered, but unfurled his wings.

Clapping a hand to his mouth seemed like the best thing to do, Clay knew he wouldn’t hold in his bark of laughter otherwise.

Roque’s dark eyes were narrowed to slits and a dangerous growl left his throat. “Not a word.”

Pale, gossamer wings shone in the bright sunlight, shimmering gently. But they were pink. The pink of the bottom of babies’ feet and the softest of summer sunrises. Clay had to admit they did go wonderfully with Roque’s skin, but couldn’t help the chuckle which escaped him.

“Nice wings.”

“If you tell anyone, I will hurt you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Clay grinned. “So, you’re what, a hundred? Or so?”

“Hundred and fifteen,” Roque replied moodily, flapping one wing and glaring at it. “Hate these things. Why couldn’t they have turned blue or something?”

“Maybe they suit your gentle disposition,” Clay’s voice broke on the last word and he subsided into wheezing laughter.

Roque just folded his arms across his impressively broad chest and waited for him to regain control.

“Sorry,” Clay wiped his eyes. “Needed a laugh.”

“Well, it’s the last one you’ll get at my expense,” Roque growled, hiding his wings.

“Hey,” Clay slapped the bigger godfather on his shoulder. “I won’t mention ‘em again. ‘Least you have wings, pink or not. As you age they’ll darken.”

“They better,” Roque squinted over his shoulder resentfully. “By the time I’m four hundred, they better be black.”

Clay scratched at his beard for a moment, wondering whether Roque knew exactly what he’d have to do to make his wings turn black. No, probably not. No fairy was willing to do that. Roque was probably all bluster, just like the rest of them. But he did seem to have an undercurrent of...something vaguely angry running through him, Clay could feel it. He looked at Roque thoughtfully until he shifted uncomfortably beneath the scrutiny.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Clay shook his head and turned his attention back to the parchment in his hand. “Right, our job is a boy named Carlos. Looks like he went and fell in love with Prince Jacob, stupid boy. Oh, the prince actually loves him back, maybe he’s not so dim after all. But he’s gone and gotten himself kidnapped. We need to rescue him and reunite the pair of them.”

“A rescue mission for a lovestruck kid?” Roque raised his eyebrows. “For that they need us?”

“Would you rather be storming a fortress somewhere?”

“Yes.”

“Tough. Around here you take whatever mission they see fit to give you. Anything to get out of here, agreed?”

Screwing up his face, Roque nodded. “I suppose.” He peered over Clay’s shoulder at the parchment. “So what do we do?”

“Well, first we head into the human realm.” Clay stuffed the wad of parchment inside his coat, then smiled. “And we hide our wings.”

***

“No. No, no and no again.” Jacob shook his with every word. “Absolutely not, never, no way.”

“Jacob,” Queen Valentina sighed, “don’t be difficult.”

“Why not?” Jacob demanded. “This is only, oh, let me think about, yes, that’s it, _my life_ that we’re talking about. I’m not doing it.”

“Jacob,” his mother’s voice was sharper now, less tolerant. “You, if I may remind you, are a prince. You have certain responsibilities which cannot be ignored.”

“I understand that,” Jacob said, panic welling up inside him like a river about to burst its banks. “But you want me to choose a wife. On my birthday. At a damn ball.” He shook his head, barely able to believe they were asking it of him. “No, I’m not doing it. Shall I give you a list of reasons as to why?”

The queen pinched the bridge of her nose. “I do not require one but I imagine you will plow onward regardless.”

“Damn right I will,” Jacob retorted. “Number one, I don’t want a wife. Number two, I don’t have time for this nonsense about balls and suchlike, I need to find Carlos. Number three, oh wait, there isn’t a number three, the first two just about cover it.”

“Jacob,” Valentina said gently, reaching out to stroke his hair. “How long has it been since you saw Carlos?”

“Three weeks, four days, six hours.” It was kind of nice to have his mother’s hand on his cheek, reminded him of being younger and less concerned about being forced into a marriage he didn’t want.

“And he has made no attempt to contact you?”

Jacob shook his head miserably.

“Angel, do you think perhaps it might be possible that the young man may have changed his mind about the two of you?”

Valentina’s eyes were full of motherly concern, Jacob felt something shift in his chest. Whether it was sorrow or anger, he couldn’t quite tell, the two seemed to have become interchangeable.

She went on, “Perhaps he realized what a large responsibility it is to be involved with royalty. It could be that he decided it was too much of a responsibility for him to bear.”

She tugged Jacob into a hug, her arms warm and firm around him as he numbly rested his chin on her shoulder.

“No,” he said, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. “He wouldn’t. He would’ve said if he couldn’t take it. Really, he would.”

“And yet he has not sent you any word in these past weeks, he has made no effort to aid you in finding him. Perhaps he does not wish to be found.”

Jacob pulled away from her soothing embrace and rubbed his eyes. “No.” It came out as a croak, he cleared his throat and tried again. “No. There’s something wrong, I know it. I need to find him, need to help him. He’s in trouble, his stepfather’s capable of anything. He could be dead for all I know.” Oh, that thought sent a spasm of fear the like of which he’d never felt before rushing through him, leaving him cold and shaking inside.

“I am sure he is perfectly well,” the queen said, obviously dismissing the subject from her mind. Jacob almost envied her, Carlos took up all of his waking thoughts and most of his sleep-sodden ones as well.

“Now,” she went on, “we need to decide on a color scheme for the ball. I was thinking sky blue, it’ll bring out your eyes...you’ll be the most eligible man in the realm, we have to make you worthy of the title. You’re so handsome, darling, every girl in the kingdom will be scrambling to be the one you choose. Aisha will be there, she was the first one I invited.”

“Mother,” Jacob said firmly, gripping her forearms tightly. “I will tell you this once more and never again. I am not choosing a wife. I don’t want a wife, I don’t even like women.” He frowned. “No, I like women, they’re very useful, of course. But I don’t...well, I don’t like women in that way. The only one I want is Carlos. And stop dangling this Aisha person in front of me like a damned fishing lure. I don’t care of she’s a queen in her own right, I’m not marrying her or anyone else.”

“Sadly, Carlos or any other boy cannot provide the kingdom with an heir, dear,” Valentina said. “You think we just want you to marry for no reason? That we’re just being mean? Jacob,” she tut-tutted softly. “I thought you were more clever than that.”

Jacob sighed, defeat already weighing heavily on his shoulders and growing more impossible to ignore with each passing second. “I know. I was just trying to forget about that part.”

“Kingly responsibility,” the queen smiled gently. “It takes a king to rule a kingdom, and he is nothing if he has no heir to pass that kingdom on to.”

Jacob turned away and closed his eyes for a moment before saying heavily, “Even if I find him, you won’t let me be with him, will you?”

“I would,” she ran a hand across his back, trying for comforting but only eliciting shivers from him. “If it made you happy, I’d let you do whatever you wanted. If we were anything other than what we are. If we were peasants or farmers or a family of fisherpeople, I’d love Carlos as much as I love you, just because he made you happy. But, Jacob, darling, we’re not just anyone, we’re royal and we have to bear the responsibilities which come with that. It is not easy, not even pleasant at times, but we have no choice but to accept our lot.”

“Maybe you don’t,” Jacob snarled, jerking away from her. “I, on the other hand, do.”

So saying, he turned and stormed off, his footsteps an angry accompaniment to the furious pounding of his heart.

“Jacob?” the queen called after him. “Where are you going?”

“To find Carlos,” he spat over his shoulder.

***

Aisha stared into the scrying bowl, watching the sharp words being spoken between the queen and her son. Sadly, the bowl could not allow her to hear what was being said, but lip reading wasn’t too difficult a skill to learn. She saw her own name on Jacob’s lips. From the way his mouth twisted when he said it, she imagined he wasn’t consenting to meet her. Damn him.

With a dissatisfied sigh, she leaned back from the bowl and rubbed at her aching eyes. Scrying always gave her a headache. Magic came at a price, that was what her own mother had told her, and as always, she’d been right. She’d also been adamant that she’d had a vision of Aisha marrying a prince and going on to become the most powerful queen in an age.

While she never doubted her mother’s sincerity, after all, she had been the most cunning witch in the entire kingdom, Aisha’s resolve that Jacob was the prince in question was beginning to crack just a little. She glanced back into the bowl, in time to see Jacob turn and storm away from the queen.

What would it take to meet the man? She’d been patient, incredibly patient, playing along with all the little subtle subterfuges and strategies which were de rigueur for life within a royal court. Asking the queen over and over to arrange a meeting between herself and Jacob simply hadn’t worked.

She glanced at her wardrobe. Well, if she had to snare Jacob the old fashioned way, she would. Yes, there would be a lot of other women at the ball, but they wouldn’t hold a candle to her once she made an effort with her hair and wore her best dress. He’d slip quietly under her spell and that would be that. Granted there’d have to be the inevitable period of waiting for the current king to die in order for Jacob to take his place, but she could always give nature a helping hand and hurry King Edward on his way.

When Jacob was king, well, if he were to suffer a fatal fall from one of his horses...Aisha smiled. Black suited her, she could play the grieving, heartbroken widow to perfection. She would be the Black Queen, unsmiling, devastated by loss, unchallenged for power.

Massaging her neck, she laughed out loud. Oh yes, her mother had been right, she was worthy of a crown.


	9. Chapter 9

“So this is the human world, huh?” Roque looked around, “Doesn’t seem that much different to ours.”

“Looks are deceiving,” Clay muttered, busily ensuring that the portal between the worlds was carefully hidden. It wouldn’t do to have humans unwittingly falling through into the Fae lands. If nothing else, it would make the place untidy. He stood back and admired his handiwork, not bad at all, nobody would know there was a door there unless they were looking for it. He turned to Roque, “This world looks like ours but just wait, you’ll feel it soon.”

“Feel what?”

“No magic.” A tiny shiver fingered its way down Clay’s spine. “Feels off, wrong, like we’re somewhere we shouldn’t be.”

“Never bothered me before,” Roque grinned. “I’m always in places I shouldn’t be.”

“Wood nymphs?” Clay guessed.

Roque’s smile turned into a smirk. Clay nodded in appreciation. “They are fun, aren’t they?”

“Not as much fun as the sirens.”

At that, Clay laughed out loud, “Sirens! I haven’t slept with a siren for decades.”

A cart rumbled past on the rough road which skirted the wood in which the portal resided. Clay remembered where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. Coughing a little self consciously, he straightened his coat and said, “Um, yeah, well. I guess we should be moving along. Things to do, huh?”

“If you say so,” Roque said, slanting a sideways glance at him. “You’re the teacher, remember?”

“And you’re supposed to do what I say.”

Roque shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Clay rolled his eyes and led the way out of the wood. “Right, first rule of being around humans. Do not show them your wings.”

“Gladly.”

“Second rule, do not do any magic where a human can see you.”

“Fine.”

“Third, do not tell them that you are a fairy godfather.”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

Clay looked Roque up and down assessingly. “No, but like I said, looks are deceiving.” Roque narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms menacingly.

“Oh, stop it.” Clay said cheerfully. “You honestly think you can intimidate me? I’d kick your fairy ass from here to the end of the Fae lands without even trying.”

Roque looked like he was having an internal battle, trying to force down words which he really shouldn’t say to the godfather he was supposed to be apprenticed to. Clay grinned again, this was going to be fun.

He pulled the sheaf of parchment from his pocket and rifled through it, looking for the map which the elders had thought to provide. Finding it, he smoothed it out on a convenient rock and stabbed at it with a dirty forefinger.

“Look, this is where we are and this,” he moved his finger to a spot on the other side of the map, “is where young Carlos is at the moment.”

“So we go and get him,” Roque said, flexing his own fingers. “Simple.”

“In an ideal world, yes, we just go and get him, but it’s not that easy here.”

“Why not? We’ve got magic, we fly there, get him away from whoever kidnapped him and throw him into his prince’s lap. Done.”

Clay pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to get a headache, he just knew it. They always hurt more in the mortal realm.

“Did you listen to anything I just said? We can’t just fly there, someone would see us. Now, I don’t care whether humans know about us or not, but the Fae council are dead set against it. I don’t fancy spending the rest of my life stuck in an office shuffling paper from one side of a desk to another, which I assure you, the council would do to us if we were seen.”

“Fine, so we don’t fly,” Roque huffed. “How are we supposed to get there? It’ll take weeks to walk.”

“Horses,” Clay said, a little condescendingly. “You know what they are?”

“Of course I do,” Roque growled.

Clay grinned, baiting the big man was going to take the boring edges off of this mission. “So we get a couple of ‘em and dose them with a little magic to help ‘em move faster.”

“Thought you said we had to be careful.”

“I’m not going to turn them into Pegasus,” Clay snapped. “Just going to give them a helping hand. Otherwise, like you say, we’ll be here for weeks.”

He shuddered, as annoyingly perfect as the Fae lands were at times, the complete absence of magic in the human realm began to creep beneath his skin after a while. It deadened his reactions and made him feel less than his usual magical self. Dull and slow, that’s what he became, and he hated it. So anything which speeded up his tasks in the mortal world was to be welcomed.

Roque grinned. “How about something else?”

“What?” Clay frowned.

With a flourish, Roque snapped his fingers. His dark eyes glowed with blue flames for a moment and his hands were wreathed in licking tongues of fire, blue as sapphires. Then they were gone. Clay nodded approvingly.

“Not bad for a beginner.”

“I’m young,” Roque cast him a dark look. “Didn’t say I was a beginner.”

“Fair enough,” Clay conceeded. “Let me guess, you just made yourself invisible, right?”

Roque grinned. “Now we can fly.”

“We can,” Clay snapped his own fingers and felt invisibility trickle down over him like a bucket of cold water. “But you do realize you just depleted your magic reserves, don’t you?”

“Magic reserves?” Roque looked nonplussed and Clay couldn’t resist a little superior smirk.

“We only have the magic within us. In this world, there’s nothing in nature to help us replenish our powers. Here, once you use the magic, it’s gone and you won’t get any more until you go back home.” He let his smile grow. “So, well done, we’re invisible. But we won’t have as much oomph when it comes to helping Carlos escape now.”

Roque growled something unintelligible.

“Don’t worry,” Clay slapped him on the back. “I did it too, my first mission out here. Used up all my magic in two days and spent the rest of the time on foot, doing things the human way. It was awful.”

“So how do we get more?”

“Well, we could just jump back into Fae for a while, that’d help.”

“So why are we still standing here?”

“Because the council will know the second we open the door from this side. They already think I’m a lost cause, if I go back already, they’ll think I made yet another mistake. Doddery old fools will be laughing at me.”

Roque huffed a breath out through his nose. “Fine. I’ll go back in and recharge.”

“Leave it,” Clay said, suddenly tired of having to constantly explain things. “We’ve still got enough power to rescue the kid, long as we don’t have to take on an army or something. Let’s just go and get this over with.” The sprite pools were seeming more attractive by the minute. Just go in, do the job, get out, that was what he’d been taught as an apprentice and it was a mantra he was glad to stick to now.

Roque shrugged. “Whatever you say. After all, you’re the one the council will blame if it all goes wrong.”

“Thanks for the encouragement.”

“You’re welcome,” Roque grinned, insultingly cheerful. Clay felt every one of his four hundred years pressing down on him and vaguely wondered whether it might not be nice to be young again. But then, he might have pink wings too, which would be a fate worse than death.

“Come on,” he said, shaking himself. “Seeing as we’re invisible, we’d better make the most of it before the magic wears off.”

“You know where we’re going?”

“I have a map, remember?” Clay snapped, snatching up the parchment.

“So that’s a yes,” Roque said implacably.

“Yes, I know where I’m going,” Clay said, rubbing his aching eyes. “Now can we move? Or we’ll be flying in the dark and I doubt they’ve trained you for that.”

Roque growled but obligingly unfurled his wings and hovered a few feet above the ground. Clay hid a smile at the sight of the pale pink, shining in the afternoon sun.

“Don’t look at ‘em,” Roque snarled. “If you stare, they don’t work so well.”

“Every man has performance issues,” Clay said seriously, inwardly howling with laughter. “Don’t worry about it.” He shook out his own wings, gave some quick thanks to the fairy gods for making them a manly color, and took off.

***

When he’d declared that he was going to find Carlos, Jacob hadn’t really had much of an idea as to how he was going to do it. He still didn’t, and now he was tired and hungry after riding rather aimlessly around the countryside for two days.

Sliding off his mare and wincing as sore muscles protested at the movement, he took shelter beneath a leafy oak tree. It was early evening and the chill as the sun went down was just starting to bite at him. Wrapping himself in his luxurious red cloak kept the cold at bay but also served to remind him of happy hours spent with Carlos, either curled up beneath or laid out on that very fabric.

As much as royal tradition demanded that he choose a wife at his eighteenth birthday celebration, he knew he couldn’t. Maybe it was just his natural rebellious streak talking, but doing something because someone told him he had to had never gone down particularly well with him. Doing something as momentous as choosing the person he was going to spend the rest of his life with based purely on one evening’s revelry seemed like utter madness and even if he hadn’t met Carlos, he’d still refuse to do it. Now that he had memories of Carlos’ smooth skin beneath his fingers, he knew he’d never want anyone else.

Jacob sighed, his life had gone from gloriously sunlit to dark and depressing in the time it took for Carlos to vanish. What had Max done with him? Could he go back to the farm and beat it out of the man? No, probably not. Max seemed the type who wouldn’t ever talk, no matter what happened to him. But what about his sons? Adam and Henry, maybe they might be more willing to explain what had been done with Carlos. But what could he use for leverage? Violence might work but he wasn’t really a hundred percent happy with the idea, he was supposed to be learning about diplomacy, after all. Beating information out of one’s subjects didn’t seem like a good way to earn the population’s respect and love.

He dropped his head onto his folded arms and wished Carlos would just walk up and sit down next to him. Hoofbeats on the sun-baked road made him look up. Could it be? A rider came into view and stopped next to his mare. Jacob’s heart hammered in his chest, could he be witnessing a miracle? Had Carlos really come back to him?

Pooch flopped down onto the dry grass beside him and stared up at the leafy boughs overhead.

“For a prince with hair as absurdly blond as yours and an ego the size of the castle, you’re hard to keep track of.”

“Sorry,” Jacob muttered dully.

“Did you find anything?” Pooch plucked a grass stalk and chewed on it thoughtfully. “Any sign of him?”

“No.”

“I’ve never known you so silent. It’s scaring me. You really miss him, don’t you?”

Jacob nodded. Pooch shoved at his shoulder and grinned.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

“How?” Jacob said, letting misery wash over him. “I’ve been riding round for two days with no idea of where to go or what to do. The only thing I can think of is going back to the farm and trying to get something useful out of his stepfather or stepbrothers.”

“Well then, sounds like you’ve got a plan.” Pooch handed him a bag. “Food, I figured you’d be hungry by now.”

“Thanks.”

“You gonna share?”

Jacob nodded, tearing the fresh loaf in half and handing a piece to Pooch. As he ate, he tried to ignore the leaden feeling in his stomach. Was anyone feeding Carlos?

***

The hut door slammed shut, plunging Carlos into now familiar darkness. He didn’t bother to pull his shirt off, it was too much effort and he didn’t have the energy. He simply dropped onto his bed fully clothed, asleep in seconds.

What seemed like a moment later but was actually probably a couple of hours, a noise at his door woke him. It sounded like someone was messing with the locks, trying to undo them. He groped beneath his bed for the branch he’d managed to sneak in unnoticed. If anyone was going to try anything, at least he’d give as good as he got. Being smacked in the jaw with a lump of wood might dissuade Wade from any amorous advances.

The scraping grew louder and was accompanied by impatient muttering. Carlos strained his ears to make out what was being said but it was too low. There were two voices, he was fairly certain, which made his skin prickle with cold fear. One he could probably fight off, two...it wouldn’t be quite so easy. The branch was rough in his hands, rubbing against skin already sore and dotted with new calluses.

One of the voices said, “Oh, for the love of...get out of the way.”

A flash of light so bright it was like having the sun itself contained in the tiny hut, blinded Carlos. With panic in his heart and nothing more than the desire to give a good account of himself in his head, he swung his makeshift club wildly this way and that.

“Ow!”

Carlos grinned, glad to have at least made contact with something solid. He still couldn’t see but his ears were working, not that they were much use when someone grabbed the branch and wrestled it out of his hands.

“Stop that!”

“Or what?” Carlos spat, swinging a kick in the vague direction of the voice. He was rewarded with another exclamation of pain, along with a few choice curse words.

Rough hands closed over his shoulders and shoved him backwards, he stumbled and sat down heavily on the bed. Lashing out again with his feet didn’t get Carlos anything this time, which was somewhat disappointing.

“What do you want?” he snarled, clenching his hands on the blanket beneath him.

Far from the filthy reply he’d been expecting, a calm voice said, “It’s all right, Carlos, don’t worry. We’re not here to hurt you.”

“Heard that before,” Carlos replied.

Before he could say anything else, a hand touched his forehead and his vision instantly cleared. The hut was still pitch black, so being able to see didn’t actually help very much.

“Who are you?” he demanded in the haughtiest voice he could summon. His knees were up beneath his chin, just in case anyone decided to try anything, he didn’t intend to make it easy for them.

A soft, warm glow lit the hut, Carlos couldn’t see where it came from but he was more concerned with the fact that he now found himself facing two large men, both of whom looked very unsavory. Scrambling back another few inches, the wood of the wall pressed against his back, splinters poking through his thin shirt.

“Relax,” one of the men held out a hand. “We’re not here to hurt you.” He peered closely at the fading bruises on Carlos’ face. “Looks like someone else has already done that.”

Carlos snorted and gave him a contemptuous look.

“I’m Clay, this is Roque,” the man went on. “We’re here to help.”

“What do you mean?” Carlos knew it was stupid to let any kind of hope bite at him but he couldn’t help it.

The man, the one named Clay, grinned, showing a lot of white teeth. There was a naughty gleam in his eye. “Fairy godfathers, at your service.” He sketched a quick bow then glanced up at Carlos with another smile.

“What?” Carlos looked between Clay and Roque. Was this just another prank from Wade and his cronies? How hard would they laugh if he fell for this? He pressed his back more firmly against the wooden planking behind him. “Good joke. Tell Wade I laughed.”

“No joke,” Clay’s smile didn’t falter. “We’re fairy godfathers and we’re here to help you.”

“There’s no such thing as magic,” Carlos muttered, “not in this world.”

“But we’re not from this world.” Clay kneeled down and looked him in the eyes. “We’re not lying.”

Something about the man told Carlos to trust him, but he couldn’t just go with a gut feeling, could he? They were probably waiting for him to do that, then who knew what they’d do to him. Tilting his chin up, he said defiantly, “Show me.”

“Hey!” The other man, Roque, burst out angrily, “If we say we’re fairies, we’re Elder-damned fairies. Understand?”

Carlos looked at his branch, lying forgotten on the floor behind Roque’s long legs. Damn.

Clay chuckled, deep and low and oddly reassuring. “Calm down, you don’t have to fight us off, we’re not going to hurt you.” He stood and brushed dirt from his breeches. “But Roque’s right, you’re gonna have to start believing us if you expect us to help you.”

“So you’re...fairies?” Carlos almost laughed at himself for even saying it, Clay and Roque didn’t look like fairies.

Roque snorted impatiently as Clay said, “Yes. Fairy godfathers to be exact. Well, I’m a godfather, Roque here’s my apprentice.”

Carlos eyed Roque, “You have wings? Fairies have wings, don’t they? Show me.”

“Do we have to help him?” Roque glanced at Clay appealingly. “Can’t we just leave him here?”

“Yes, we do and no, we can’t,” Clay replied. “Wings.”

Roque sighed and shook his head but a moment later Carlos found himself looking at two pairs of shimmering, delicate as dust, fairy wings. He felt his mouth drop open but made no move to close it. Fairies. There were fairies in his hut, well, his prison. His lips curved into a smile. He was saved! Either that or he’d gone temporarily insane.

He fully intended to say something like ‘thank you for coming’ or ‘how can we get out of here?’ but the first words which made their way out of his mouth were, “They’re so pink.”

Even in the soft light he could see Roque’s expression go from resigned to furiously embarrassed.

“They’re nice,” Carlos instantly said, holding out a placating hand. “Really...pretty. Shiny. Glowy.”

“Kill me now,” Roque said, looking at Clay pitifully.

Clay laughed out loud and the tense atmosphere eased. “He’s right. They are pretty. Live with it, soldier.”

With his brain slowly processing the fact that the two grown men in front of him had gently shimmering fairy wings, Carlos felt a little braver.

“So, you’re here to help me? What’s the plan? Can you get me out of here? I need to find Jacob, I need to find Max.” His voice dropped as he mentioned his stepfather, yes, he definitely needed to see Max. There were words to be had and maybe the odd punch to land.

“Slow down, kid,” Clay said, his deep voice suddenly authoritative. “Yes, we can get you out of here but getting you to your prince might not be as easy as you think.”

“Why not?” Carlos and Roque said together.

“All you have to do is snap your fingers, isn’t it?” Carlos went on. “You’ve got magic, well, magic me out of here and send me to Jacob.”

“We’ve got a certain amount of magic,” Clay patiently explained. “We can get you out of here but as we have no idea where your prince is, we can’t just send you to him. If I did that, I might scatter you all across the kingdom. I doubt you’d enjoy that.”

Carlos swallowed, no, he didn’t think he’d enjoy that either. “All right,” he said past a suddenly dry throat. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Get you away from this farm and find someplace to hide while we figure out what to do next.”

Nodding, Carlos scrambled to his feet. “Sounds good to me. Let’s go.”

***

It was the work of a moment and required merely a click of fingers to get Carlos out of the little hut. One second he was inside, then he blinked and found himself in the cool night air, breathing freedom for the first time in weeks. Well, years. Living with Max had never really equated to being free.

Clay’s large hand was wrapped around his arm, Carlos carefully extracted it and promptly fell over.

“Sorry, forgot to mention it can make people dizzy.” Clay didn’t sound apologetic at all and the smile on his face confirmed it.

Carlos clambered to his feet, then flailed his arms for balance as the world tilted again. “Do you feel like this all the time?”

Clay shook his head, “Fairies are made differently. Magic doesn’t hit us with the same force it hits you. All the same, best to be wary with it.” His eyes flicked to Roque, “Magic will turn and bite you as easily as it’ll bite the person you want to hurt. She’s fickle but she’s wonderful. You just have to know how to stroke her right, then she’ll roll over and let you do whatever you want with her.”

Glancing at Clay, Carlos saw that he was deadly serious. Roque nodded and appeared to take the information on board.

“All right, then,” Carlos rubbed his hands together. “Can we get going?”

Clay nodded. “We’ll find someplace to hide you, then figure out where we go from here.”

For a moment, Carlos thought his heart might burst with happiness. He was free! Granted he wasn’t with Jacob yet and Max was still at large, but, baby steps, he was out of that stupid hut! “We should be careful,” he said, keeping his voice pitched low. “There are usually guards around the edges of the farm at night.”

“Why?” Roque asked. “It’s only a farm, what’re they guarding?”

“I think Wade and Max have a lot of shady business going on,” Carlos explained. “Perhaps they don’t want people getting nosey.”

“Or maybe they have more people like you,” Clay rumbled, leading them away from the hut. “You know, people who don’t necessarily want to be here. Maybe the guards are to keep them in, rather than other people out.”

“Either way,” Roque made a dismissive gesture, “what do we do about ‘em?”  
  
“We avoid ‘em,” Clay said as thought talking to an idiot. “If someone sees us, improvise.”

“Improvise?” Roque said, then chuckled. “The Council sent me with you so you could impart all your knowledge of Godfather-ing. And it turns out your big secret is ‘improvise’.”

Clay shrugged. “No point sticking to hard and fast rules when you’re out in the real world. Things change quickly, if you’re thinking of the plan all the time, you don’t change with ‘em. If you don’t adapt, you mess up.”

“Fascinating, can we go now?” Carlos put in, almost hopping up and down in agitation. Being caught now would be beyond sickening.

“Impatient kids,” Clay muttered, but continued moving toward the edge of the farm.

They were almost at the fence which marked the boundary of Wade’s land when movement ahead of them sent Clay into a crouch. Carlos followed suit and felt Roque do the same behind him. His night sight was pretty good now, he could make out the figure of a man walking up to one of the men standing near the fence. The man turned and was silhouetted against the light from the main farmhouse for a moment. Carlos hissed.

“Friend of yours?” Clay murmured.

“Wade,” Carlos growled. “Bastard owns this place.” He raised a hand and traced the edge of the bruise slowly fading around his eye.

“Oh, he the one who did that?” Clay didn’t sound impressed.

“Not personally, but he ordered it,” Carlos replied, his eyes on Wade. Oh, to have a knife or something, anything, to use as a weapon. The desire for revenge had burned in his veins for so long he often didn’t recognise it but right now it was almost scalding.

Wade strolled away from the sentry, passing within a few feet of where they crouched in the shadows. Carlos stared at him, hating him almost as much as he hated Max. Then he blinked and Wade was gone.

“What?” he said, far too loudly. Clay’s hand slapped over his mouth and kept him in his low crouch. “What happened?” he said against Clay’s palm. “Where’s Wade?”

Roque pointed, shoulders shaking with silent mirth. Carlos peered closely at the dusty ground and saw a frog sitting there, looking around itself with a slightly dazed expression.

Carlos stared in amazement, then grinned. “Perfect.”

“I thought we were supposed to be conserving magic,” Roque said.

“He deserved it,” Clay said, shrugging. “Besides, the whole frog thing is a classic. I’m educating our young friend here.”

“Brilliant,” Carlos breathed, still looking at Wade, who was now croaking rather sorrowfully.

“Thanks, I try.” Clay stood and ran toward the fence, vaulting it easily. “Right, let’s find a place to hide.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Have you been here before?” Carlos asked as he followed Clay’s shadowy form through the night.

“Why?”

“You seem to know where you’re going.”

Clay looked back and grinned, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. “Nope, just have a good sense of direction. Plus I’ve had to hide often enough to know where to find a good place to do it without too much fuss.”

Behind him, Carlos heard Roque mutter something about Clay being one spell short of a book. He laughed softly, suddenly feeling lighter and more carefree than he had in weeks.

“So where are we going?” he asked, nimbly stepping aside to avoid a whippy branch which swished toward his head as Clay pushed it out of his way. Roque swore as it caught him full in the face.

“You tell me,” Clay replied. “All I know is we have to get you back to your prince as soon as we can. The Council aren’t big on giving godfathers a lot of details. They’d rather we squirm for a while and figure things out for ourselves. Helps us grow, apparently.”

Roque swore again, sounding disgusted.

“Um.” Carlos felt a little like a rabbit caught in the glare of a campfire, “I don’t know where Jacob is. The castle, I presume, after all, that is where he lives.” He rubbed absently at his still sore stomach muscles. “Not to sound ungrateful, but why are you here? I mean, who sent you? Why are you helping me?”

“Can’t you humans just accept help when it’s offered?” Roque growled. “We’re here, what’s it matter who sent us?”

“Calm down, Roque,” Clay muttered, still moving forward through the thick undergrowth. “Human curiosity, it’s a good thing. Well, at times anyway.” He stopped and made a triumphant sound. “Here, this should do for a while.”

Carlos peered into the stygian darkness and dimly saw that there was a clearing ahead of them. Clay strolled into it as though he owned it and sat down fluidly, his glittering eyes on Carlos.

“Take a seat,” he nodded at the grassy ground. “Looks like we have some talking to do.”

Sitting in the middle of a dark forest, talking to a pair of fairies seemed like one of the crazier things Carlos had done, but if it got him back to Jacob more quickly, what did a little bit of crazy matter? Clay waited for him to make himself comfortable on the grass, then snapped his fingers. A cheerful crackling fire appeared in front of them, perfectly normal apart from the fact the flames were purple.

“Won’t that help people find us?” Carlos asked. Surely someone had to have noticed that Wade was a frog and that Carlos’ hut was now empty. Pursuit was probably inevitable.

“Invisible to all but us,” Roque grunted. “Gotta show me how to do that, I never mastered it.”

“Typical,” Clay said, his eyes twinkling even more in the bright purple glow. “They send me out here with the only apprentice godfather who can’t make invisible fire.” He shook his head in mock sorrow and sighed, “Poor me.”

“Yeah, poor you,” Roque said, a smile almost making its way onto his lips. “What about me? I get stuck with the godfather who sleeps with anything female. The council warned me to expect you to forget the mission altogether if you saw something even vaguely resembling a woman. I’m supposed to hit you with a stunning spell and drag your sorry behind back to the portal if you look like abandoning me in favor of a brothel.”

“Miserable old bastards,” Clay growled. “Never know how to have any fun.” Eyeing Roque closely, he grinned. “You gonna stun me?”

“Not if we both get to go into the brothel,” Roque replied.

Carlos wrapped his arms around his knees, not quite able to believe he was listening to two magical beings discussing brothels. Clearing his throat, he said hesitantly, “Er, sorry, don’t want to interrupt but...” he paused as both fairies turned to look at him.

The glow from the purple fire gave them both an other-worldly look. The soft edges of humanity vanished, replaced with something sharper, more dangerous and infinitely more ancient. Their eyes reflected the dancing flames, four purple orbs shining brightly against the darkness behind them. Something not quite fear but definitely not contentment raced down Carlos’ spine. Life had gone from miserable to bizarre in moments and his brain was struggling to cope.

Dredging up some much needed courage, Carlos went on, “You didn’t tell me who sent you or what I’m supposed to do to repay you for helping me.”

“The Fae Council,” Clay replied quickly. “And you don’t need to repay us. We don’t work like that. We come here, we help, we go back, that’s it.”

“Why?” Carlos asked, mystified.

Clay looked surprised, “Nobody’s asked before. You don’t need to repay us, you probably couldn’t anyway, it’s not like we need corn or whatever it is you grow in this world. And if we want gold, we can make it, so what’d be the point in asking for that?”

Carlos nodded in agreement, still uneasy about exactly what he was getting himself into. Was he about to owe this Fae Council some kind of debt? His firstborn or something? Actually that probably wasn’t an option, given that between them, he and Jacob had only half the required equipment to create a firstborn. What else could the mysterious council demand from him?

“Am I gonna be in your debt forever because of this?”

“Kid, listen.” Clay leaned forward earnestly, “You don’t have to repay us and we won’t come knocking at your door one day, I promise. That’s not how we work. We help because it’s the right thing to do.”

“That’s kind of important where we come from,” Roque put in. “Our bosses don’t take kindly to people acting selfishly, it’s not in our job descriptions. We help, so get used to it.”

“All right,” Carlos said slowly, still not completely reassured. “Now what?”

“Now,” Clay said, a satisfied smirk on his face, “you use that head of yours and figure out where I should send you. We need to get you and the prince back together, the sooner the better, I imagine. I know about going without, if you see what I mean, doesn’t do a man any good. Big build up of pressure...down there, you know?”

Carlos was glad the glow from the fire hid his blush. He choked for a moment, trying to find words, then gave up.

Roque chuckled, “Sex fiend.”

“Given half a chance,” Clay agreed cheerfully. “But not right now, work first, pleasure later. Another lesson for you to remember, never get caught with your breeches around your ankles when there’s magic to be done.”

Nodding seriously, Roque said, “I’ll remember that.”

“Right,” Clay turned back to Carlos, who was still trying to form coherent words. “I know you say you’ve got no idea where the prince might be apart from the castle, but think really hard. We need to get you to him. If we send you someplace which leads to you ending up back here again, we’ll just get sent back here to start over. So, where can you go that’s a safe starting point to track down your missing royal?”

Screwing up his face, Carlos chewed on a fingernail, trying to think of someplace he called safe. Worryingly, there weren’t many of them. The castle, that would be safe from Max’s anger. He said so, but broke off when Clay shook his head.

“Can’t send you there, can’t even get within a couple of miles of the place.”

Roque raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“The old kings,” Clay explained quickly. “Didn’t trust magic, fell out of love with it. So, in the biggest fit of irony ever, recruited the strongest sorceror they could find, she was from well over the border. Cast the strongest protection spells I or anyone else had ever seen. Even now, they’re strong enough to hurt us and they’ll strip us of every shred of magic in seconds if we pass through them.”

“So that’s a no on going to the castle,” Roque said, turning to face Carlos. “Where else?”

He didn’t want to say it, but knew he didn’t really have any other choice. “I’ve got a friend, she lives not far from my stepfather’s farm, but she’s loyal and won’t betray me. I can stay there for a night or two and try to get word to Jacob to come meet me.”

“Sounds good,” Clay rubbed his hands together, causing small red sparks to spring from them and cascade onto the ground. “Let’s go.”

Carlos stood and watched in amazement as the purple fire vanished with a quick wave of Clay’s hand. “I need to learn how to do that.”

Clay chuckled, low and easy. “Sorry, kid, you need to be born a fairy to do that. Now, tell me two things, where are we going and is your friend pretty?”

***

The darkness was close and pressing in still further. Jacob wasn’t scared of it, never had been, but all the same...it was a little unnerving. He glanced at Pooch’s sleeping form and a drop of comfort slid down into his stomach. At least he wasn’t completely alone.

It was far from a cold night but he pulled his cloak around his shoulders and buried his nose in its soft folds, taking a deep sniff. It smelled of woodsmoke and food and home.

“Are you gonna sleep at all?” Pooch’s dry voice made him jump.

“I’m on guard,” Jacob said defensively. “I’m guarding you, see?” He drew his sword a little way from its sheath and watched the firelight play on the smooth metal.

Pooch snorted derisively. “You’re so deep in your own thoughts, you wouldn’t notice a troll trying to sneak up behind you.”

“I would.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Would.”

“Troll!”

“Where?!” Jacob was on his feet with the sword naked in his hand before his brain realized Pooch was teasing him. Flopping back down on his blanket, he glared at his laughing valet. “I hate you. I’ll have you reassigned to the stables, you can spend your days mucking out stalls.”

Pooch waved a dismissive hand, “I clean your room everyday, I’m used to filth.”

Jacob had to admit Pooch had a point, housekeeping wasn’t his strongest skill. But when one had an army of people just waiting to pick up things he dropped, why make the effort to reach for them himself? It always seemed like he’d be cheating them out of jobs if he did. A grudging smile broke out on his face. “Thanks.”

“What for?” Pooch frowned.

“I don’t know,” Jacob returned irritably, once again completely lost when it came to talking about feelings and suchlike. “Being here, I suppose.”

“Oh.” Pooch looked down at his own blanket and began to fold it into neat pleats. “It’s...um, well, my pleasure.” He glanced up with a quick smile. “You’re a pain in the ass sometimes but you’re good fun. Figured I might as well be here helping you as sweeping the dust out of your room, waiting for you to drag yourself home.”

Jacob snorted with soft laughter but couldn’t think of a suitable reply. To be honest, he was actually rather touched that Pooch had made the effort to come with him. He gazed up at the stars and wondered if Carlos was looking at them as well.

“So, are we still heading to Carlos’ place in the morning?” Pooch’s dark eyes gleamed in the firelight, shrewd and older than they should be. “You think we’ll get into any trouble?”

“I don’t know,” Jacob admitted. “Max, Carlos’ stepfather, is a complete bastard, he’s behind all this so he won’t help us at all. I suppose I just figured...I don’t know, figured maybe I could get one of Carlos’ stepbrothers to help or something. Not they they’re any nicer than Max. Well, maybe a little nicer, but that’s like saying a baby adder is nicer than an adult one just because it hasn’t bitten you yet.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, headaches had been plaguing him since Carlos had vanished.

“So, assuming that visiting Max won’t give us anything helpful, it seems like a waste of time going there at all,” Pooch said practically. “Where else is there? Carlos have any friends who might be able to help us? If nothing else we could leave messages with them, if he does contact them, they can tell him you’re looking for him.”

Jacob stared into the fire, trying to think. What was that girl’s name, the one who lived just up the road from the farm? “Bennie...Bernie...” he muttered, ignoring Pooch’s raised eyebrows. “Betty...”

“What are you talking about?”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

“Ha ha, now be quiet.”

Closing his eyes and trying to summon the girl’s face helped a little and after a moment, Jacob burst out, “Bernice!”

“Bless you.”

“No, you half-witted goblin, _Bernice_ , she’s Carlos’ friend, she might be able to help us.”

Pooch grinned. “See, you are useful to have around sometimes, despite what people might say.”

“Thank you very much,” Jacob retorted. “I feel so comforted.” He frowned. “Hold on, what do people say?”

With an evil grin, Pooch stood up and shook out his bedroll before beginning to carefully roll it up.

“I mean it,” Jacob said, following suit. “What do they say about me?”

“Nothing you haven’t heard before,” Pooch’s smile was still wicked but his voice was kind. “Air-headed, good for nothing, troublemaker, perpetual child...”

“Oh, just the usual then,” Jacob said, slightly relieved that it wasn’t anything worse. He lifted his saddle and positioned it on his mare’s back, rubbing her nose affectionately when it was safely buckled. “Who knows, maybe the rumors will stop anyone from wanting to marry me.” He kept his voice deliberately light but knew Pooch would notice the undercurrent of genuine hope.

“My Lord...” Pooch stopped, obviously weighing up his next words very carefully. “I don’t presume to know how it feels to have someone order you to get married. To be honest if I had a choice of being royal or a commoner, I’d choose common every time. ‘Least we get to marry for love. But your parents...they aren’t doing this to spite you, it’s for the good...”

“Of the kingdom, I know,” sighed Jacob, resting his forehead against the cool leather of the saddle. He closed his eyes, defeat was starting to snap at him like a relentless terrier worrying at his heels. “If I was anyone else, nobody would care who I married or didn’t marry. They wouldn’t care if I lived with Carlos till we’re both old and feeble. I know I’ve got responsibilities but it’s not fair, Pooch.” He screwed his eyes tighter shut, wishing he could just make the world go away.

“No, it’s not,” Pooch’s hand rested gently on his shoulder, broad and warm. “But there’s not much we can do about it. But before we go getting all despair-ridden and start sobbing into our cloaks, let’s find Carlos and at least make sure he’s all right. When he’s safe, who knows, maybe if you introduce him to your parents, they’ll change their minds about you choosing a bride at the ball.”

“Fat chance of that,” Jacob muttered, but sniffed and straightened up. Pooch was right, there was work to do, giving in to the misery which pursued him was cowardly and wouldn’t do at all. Carlos needed him and damn it, he’d find him if it was the last thing he ever did.

“All right,” he sniffed one more time, then swung himself into his saddle. “Let’s go, if we’re lucky we’ll get to Bernice’s house before dawn, then hopefully Max won’t know we were there.”

“Right behind you,” Pooch murmured.

“Thanks.” Jacob knew he should be more eloquent but the words were currently stuck behind the lump in his throat. Squaring his shoulders, he urged his mare foward and headed for the road toward Bernice’s farm.

***

As before, it took nothing more than a snap of Clay’s fingers to propel Carlos through the night. The world rushed past him at dizzying speeds for a moment, colors and lights blending into one long eye-searing blur. Carlos squeezed his eyes shut after a second, the sensation was kind of nauseating.

His feet hit solid ground with a thud which traveled all the way up his spine and left him aching from head to toe. Clay’s hand wrapped around his arm as he staggered like a drunkard, trying to regain his balance.

“Easy, kid. Just relax and breathe, it’ll be all right in a minute.”

Carlos bent at the waist and placed his hands on his knees, trying to suck in enough air to make his stomach stop bubbling.

“Maybe you should’ve let me do it,” Roque said above him. “You seem to break people when you move ‘em.” He sniggered. “Maybe you’re getting past it, old man.”

“Says the fairy with the pink wings,” Clay replied smugly. “Forgive me if I don’t feel threatened.”

Roque hissed but didn’t say anything more. Carlos straightened up and wiped his nose, which was dripping continuously.

“Where are we?”

“Exactly where you told me to be,” Clay said. “Outside your friend’s house. Can you stand up on your own yet?”

Carlos nodded and cautiously looked around as Clay released his arm. It was still dark, with only a hint of dawn lightening the distant horizon, but he could make out the shape of Old Tom’s farmhouse. Hopefully Bernice was asleep inside and not away visiting her other friends.

He turned to Clay, “All right, thank you for bringing me here. Um, do you...leave now?”

Clay chuckled. “Sorry, kid. You don’t get rid of us that easy. We stay till we see that you’re with your prince again. Them’s the rules, no use fighting ‘em.”

Carlos smiled faintly. He didn’t actually want to fight them, having the two godfathers around was strangely comforting. Plus he wanted to see what Clay could turn Max into.

He looked back at the house and bit his lip. “I imagine you don’t want a lot of people knowing you’re here?”

“That’s the usual idea.”

“Bernice has a big family, if I knock on the door, I’ll wake them all and you’ll have to explain who you are.”

“So we’ll lie, no problem.”

“Or you could just magic me into her bedroom.” Carlos had to grin at the sly smile which slid onto Clay’s face.

“I like the way you think, kid.”

“One thing,” Carlos readied himself to fly through space again. “Stop calling me kid.”

“Got it,” Clay chuckled, then touched his shoulder and sent him back into the multicolored blur again.

Moments later Carlos’ feet hit wooden floorboards. Without Clay’s hand to steady him, his knees buckled and he barely avoided banging his nose on the floor as he collapsed. It was pitch dark inside, warm and moist. He could hear deep breathing coming from the bed and hoped Clay had sent him into the right room. Waking up Old Tom wouldn’t be a good idea, it was common knowledge that he slept with a knife under his pillow.

His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and Carlos could just about make out the spill of dark hair which fell across the sleeper’s pillow. So not Old Tom, thank goodness.

Creeping forward, choosing his steps as carefully as a burglar would, Carlos edged closer to the bed.

“Bern?” he hissed, but got no response. “Bernice? Wake up, it’s me, Carlos.” Still nothing.

Making a mental note that if ever Bernice married, he needed to warn her husband that she slept like the dead, he placed a hand on her shoulder and gently shook it. She grunted and mumbled something, but didn’t wake.

“Oh for the love of...” Carlos muttered, growing impatient. He poked Bernice hard in the ribs, then slapped his hand over her mouth as she sat up with an indignant squawk.

“Bern, Bern, it’s me, it’s Carlos, don’t yell,” he hissed frantically, as she registered that there was a man in her room and a hand over her mouth.

Her breathing slowly calmed and he saw her eyelids flutter as she tried to see him in the gloom.

“Carlos?” her lips moved against his palm and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yes, it’s me so don’t scream, all right?”

“Carlos!” her voice changed from amazed to overjoyed and she flung her arms around his neck, almost dragging him onto the bed with her. “I thought you were dead, when you just vanished, I thought Max had...I mean, he’s capable of it...and you were gone and Henry and Adam were so smug...are you all right? What happened? Where were you?” She pulled back a little and stared at him. “And how are you in my bedroom in the middle of the night?”

“Long story,” Carlos said, clambering back off the bed. “First things first, have you heard anything from Jacob?”

“What?” she pushed back the covers and swung her nightdress-clad legs over the edge of the mattress. “No, should I have?”

“No,” Carlos said, hoping he didn’t sound too wistful and depressed. “I was just wondering whether he’d been looking for me, you know, seeing as I vanished and all.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s been looking for you,” Bernice said instantly. “Just not here. Maybe he knew there was no point looking so close to home. What happened? I presume Max was behind it, where did he send you?”

“Wade’s farm.”

Bernice growled low in her throat. “That lecherous bastard. I remember the way he looked at my little brothers the last time he was here.” She coughed uncomfortably, “Um, did he...are you...not that you have to tell me...but, did he?”

“No.” Carlos had to smile despite the subject matter, it was just so damn good to be back with her again. “And now he’s in no condition to do that to anyone.”

Bernice gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “Did you...is he...did you kill him?”

“Nope,” Carlos grinned at the memory of Wade, croaking in the moonlight. “He’s just a little indisposed right now. Different priorities, you know?” _Like catching flies and sitting on lilypads._

“Oh,” Bernice didn’t sound convinced but obviously decided to let the matter slide. “So, to backtrack, why and how are you in my bedroom in the middle of the night?”

Should he tell her the truth or lie? Clay and Roque seemed pretty keen to keep the amount of people who knew about them to a minimum, but how else was he to explain escaping Wade’s farm and making it all the way back in one night? And then of course there was the whole being in her bedroom in the pitch dark issue.

“I had some help,” he said vaguely, glad the darkness hid his face, guilt was bound to be stamped all over it. “Anyway, it’s not important, I need to find Jacob. Do you have any idea where he might be?”

Bernice huffed, “Yes, of course, Carlos, the prince always lets me know what his schedule is. I’m his secretary. Just let me check his diary and I’ll tell you where he is at this very moment.” Her hand connected sharply with the back of his head. “Fool. Of course I don’t know where he is. Have you tried the castle? It’s a reasonable guess that he’d be there, being royal, as he is.”

“Can’t,” Carlos muttered, rubbing his head ruefully. “Can’t go to the castle, too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Bernice sounded mystified and quite rightly so. “What are you talking about? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Not dangerous for me.”

“Oh. Dangerous for that ‘help’ you had in getting away from Wade.” Sometimes Bernice was far smarter than her pretty face indicated. “Just who are you involved with?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Carlos said wearily.

“Try me.”

He sighed. There was no way she’d allow him to fob her off with some half-hearted excuse. She was a dog with a bone at times, one of the reasons he loved her.

“Fine. A pair of fairy godfathers helped me, there, you satisfied now?”

Bernice snorted with laughter. “Carlos, you been drinking, sweetie? Fairy godfathers, come on, I wasn’t born yesterday, tell me another one.”

He didn’t reply, hoping his silence would convince her he was telling the truth. After a moment she rested a hand on his arm and said breathlessly,

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Magic?”

“Magic.”

“I feel faint.”

“Wait till they zap you into a different place. Then you’ll feel sick.”

“So why can’t they just send you straight to the prince, why come here?” Bernice was on her feet, lighting candles and bustling around finding a dress to pull on in place of her nightie.

“Apparently if they tried to do that without knowing where he is, they could end up just scattering me across the whole kingdom in very small pieces.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly.” Carlos frowned. “Why are you getting dressed?”

“You think I’m passing up the chance to meet genuine fairies?” She gave him a pitying look. “You’re very simple at times, Carlos.”

He opened his mouth to reply but found no words suitable for the occasion. Bernice smiled and stroked his hair fondly.

“Simple but handsome. And wildly in love with an equally handsome prince.” She shook her head, “Fairy tales will never be the same. You’re supposed to be a girl, you know.” Her brow furrowed and she bit into her generous bottom lip.

“What?” Carlos asked, catching hold of her hand and squeezing slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“There was word sent out from the castle last week. Prince Jacob turns eighteen soon and they’re planning a celebration ball. Tradition, I think. My dad tells me they always do it. The thing is...” she stopped and looked down at the floorboards, then pulled her hand out of Carlos’.

“What?” Carlos said, a sinking feeling swiftly invading his stomach.

“Well, the notices they sent out said Prince Jacob was going to choose a bride at the ball.”

For a moment, time stood still. Carlos didn’t breathe, didn’t blink, he was a statue carved from a single piece of horrified stone. Eventually, he sniffed and managed one word. “Oh.”

***

“Are we nearly there yet?”

“Are you in fact, five years old?”

“My ass hurts.”

“I’m not going to reply to that, no matter how much it deserves a crushing reply.”

“I’m a valet, I’m not paid to go traipsing all around the kingdom.”

“I’ll give you a raise.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“No.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The twisting, winding road seemed to go on forever, one corner merely concealing another. But eventually, with the sun beginning to peek over the horizon and stroke the world with gloriously bright fingers, the farmhouse Carlos had indicated as being Bernice’s home swam into view.

“Tell me that’s it.” Pooch stood in his stirrups and peered at the building. “If I have to ride for much longer, I’ll never walk the same way again and Jolene will refuse to marry me and it’ll be all your fault.”

“Fine.” Jacob wasn’t really listening, he had eyes only for the house. What was he going to say to Bernice? Short of pleading with her to let him know if she saw Carlos, there wasn’t a huge amount to say. The breath in his chest stilled as he thought of finding Carlos again. Maybe they could run away somewhere together. That was it, if they ran far enough, perhaps the world would just let them be. It’d be a wrench to leave Pooch and his parents, but, desperate times, desperate measures.

With new, if tenuous, hope in his heart, Jacob slid down easily from his horse and strode toward the farmhouse door. It was rude to wake the whole family so early, but there were those desperate times to consider again. People could sleep after he’d found Carlos.

***

“What do we do?”

“Stay out of sight and whatever you do, don’t show ‘em your wings, we don’t want ‘em thinking we’re not professionals.”

“Very funny.”

“I try.”

“You know, I could mock you about the amount of times you’ve been caught leaving the nymph pools. Some people say you only like the crazy ones.”

“Some people are probably right but it’s none of their business.”

Roque snorted. Clay grinned, then returned his attention to the two men approaching the farmhouse. The grin faded as he squinted at the leading figure.

“Is that...no, is it? How did that happen? Roque, can you see...can you feel...is that the kid’s prince?”

“Articulate,” Roque said dryly. “Nicely done.”

“Shut up and look,” Clay ordered tersely. “Can’t you feel it?”

“What am I supposed to be feeling?”

“I don’t know,” Clay ran his hands through his hair. “Something. It’s like a punch in the gut, at least for me. When I get two lovers close to one another again, everything gets twisted up inside, like I’m half scared, half excited. Magic wakes up again and takes over sometimes.” He held up a hand and watched as a few red sparks dripped from his fingertips. “That’s got to be Prince Jacob.”

“So what do we do? Grab him and throw him at the kid?”

“Your idea of romance and the Council’s may be growing further apart by the second.”

“Screw romance, all we have to do is get them together, isn’t it? They’ll do the rest, which by the way, I do not want to see. One we’ve done the job, we can go find a tavern or something, can’t we?” Roque’s face brightened at the thought. “Maybe a brothel, too.”

“Now we’re thinking along the same lines,” Clay allowed himself a quick grin. “But first we have work to do, young apprentice.”

“You do know I’m taller than you and could kill you without even breaking a sweat.”

“I know,” Clay didn’t attempt to keep the cocky smirk out of his voice. “But I also know you won’t.”

Roque gave him a long, hard to decipher look. Clay saw anger and desire for power burning within him and knew he’d make a great godfather, if only he could learn to control it. He turned back to the farmhouse.

“In the meantime, wait and watch. Time spent on reconnaissance is rarely wasted.”

“You’re a pompous ass at times.”

“I know. Comes with the job description.”

Clay watched Prince Jacob warily approach the house, wondering all the time whether he should interfere or just let nature run its course.

***

“Get ready, I’m going to knock on the door.” Jacob squared his shoulders and glared at the solidly built front door of the farmhouse.

“What are you expecting to happen?” Pooch enquired from the relative safety of his horse’s back.   
“I don’t know,” Jacob snapped irritably. “People get startled when strangers wake them up before dawn. Just...if I end up with an arrow in me or something, just drag me away, all right?”

Pooch nodded, “Drag your sorry ass away from here if you end up with an arrow sticking out of it. Got it, My Lord.”

Jacob rolled his eyes and turned back to the door. “All right then, nothing to be scared of...” he muttered as he raised a hand to pound on the wood. His knocks echoed through the quiet house and split the quiet dawn like thunder cracks. Even he flinched away from the noise.

“Well, hopefully that got someone’s attention,” he said, staring up at the darkened windows with his hands on his hips. “Let’s see who comes.”

***

“Carlos?” Bernice’s worried voice pierced the fog of horror which had formed in Carlos’ brain. “You all right?”

Dumbly, he nodded. Yes, of course he was all right. He was just waking up from a very long and pleasant dream about the life he might possibly have had with Jacob. Of course he was going to choose a bride at the ball, that was what princes did. They dallied with local farmboys and had their fun, then they settled down to the serious business of running kingdoms and begetting heirs.   
He swallowed, the lump in his throat suddenly painful. It was over, all the dreams he’d had about maybe running off with Jacob, finding somewhere peaceful to live where no-one knew who the handsome blond man was, a simple life on a farm in the back of beyond, it was all just stupid wishes.

He closed his eyes and ground his teeth together, forcing down the rapidly swelling ball of misery in his chest. Maybe Jacob had been glad when Max shipped him off to Wade, it certainly made his life easier, he could just go ahead and choose a bride without any nasty spanners being thrown in the works. With Carlos gone, Jacob didn’t even have to go to the trouble of breaking up with him. It all wrapped itself up very nicely. Happy endings all around. All except for him. Maybe that had been the plan all along.

Sudden anger flooded through him. Had Jacob been stringing him along? Had every moment they’d been together simply been a way for Jacob to get a little fun out of life before settling down to be a responsible king and husband? All at once, Carlos felt very stupid.

“What was that?” Bernice’s head shot up as loud knocking from the floor below them echoed throughout the still house.

“I’m guessing there’s someone at your door,” Carlos said numbly, crossing to the window and trying to peer downward enough to see who was disturbing the night. All he could make out was a vague shadow and another man on horseback on the road in front of the house. He didn’t really care who it was, at that moment he would have welcomed homicidal kilers bent on death and destruction, he felt like a good fight.

“Two men I think,” he murmured. “Want me to go see who they are?”

Bernice had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “Yes and at the same time, no. People who knock on doors at this time of night rarely bring good news.”

The knocking resonated through the house again, and one of Bernice’s younger siblings began to wail. Angry voices came from Old Tom’s room down the hall, obviously he and Bernice’s mother had woken too.

“Let me and your father go see who it is,” Carlos said, climbing to his feet. “Stay here, all right?”

“No,” Bernice snorted. “This is my house, I’m coming to see who’s knocking on my door. Don’t even try to stop me.”

“Fine,” Carlos held up both hands in surrender as she swept past him, out of the bedroom and onto the upstairs landing. “Don’t blame me when it all goes to hell.”

***

Jacob was just about to give up hoping that someone would wake and open the door when he heard footsteps clattering down the stairs. Finally. Now all he needed to do was hope one of the people he’d woken was Bernice, and that she’d be willing to pass on a message to Carlos if she saw him.

Bolts slid open with deafening crashes which made Jacob wince. The whole neighborhood would be awake at this rate, Max included, his farm wasn’t too far down the road.

His hand twitched around to grip the hilt of his sword, the last thing he wanted was to see Max yet at the same time he craved the chance to make the man suffer for all the things he’d done to Carlos over the years. Maybe another time, when Carlos was safely back with him again, maybe they’d go see Max and deal out a little justice.

The heavy door opened with almost painful slowness. Jacob plastered on his most friendly, reassuring, ‘trust me, I’m a prince’ smile.

The four inch thick door finally swung far enough on its hinges to allow him to see into the gloom beyond. Jacob found himself staring into very familiar dark eyes, and froze.

***

“Carlos?”

Carlos blinked a few times. He was obviously hallucinating, he thought Jacob was standing in the open doorway. Perhaps Clay’s zapping him from one place to another had made him temporarily crazy. Where was Clay anyway? He and Roque seemed to have melted into the night.

“Carlos,” Jacob’s smile was dazzling even in the strange darkness of pre-dawn. “How did you...why are you...how did you get here? Are you all right? What happened? Where were you? Did Max do this? Are you all right?”

“Oh, thank the fairies,” a man behind Jacob said. Carlos flicked a glance at him but didn’t recognize him. “You found him, well done, My Lord. Masterful detective work. Can we go home now?”

“Shut up, Pooch,” Jacob grinned over his shoulder before turning back to Carlos, a wondering expression on his face. “I can’t believe you’re just here, what happened?”

Carlos swallowed. He should be overjoyed, he really should. He’d spent countless hours dreaming of this very moment. Why wasn’t he dancing with glee and kissing Jacob as though their lives both depended on it? Oh yes, because Jacob was marrying someone else. It was a dull throb in his chest, pulsing with very beat of his heart and growing more painful by the second.

“Carlos?” Jacob stepped closer, the smile on his face fading to concern. “What’s wrong?”

Rubbing a hand over his face reminded Carlos that he’d managed to grow the beard Jacob had told him he’d look good with so many months ago. Somehow he felt braver having felt it. He was a man, dammit, not some cowardly knave. Bloody princes, going around breaking people’s hearts. His lip curled back from his teeth in a singularly unpleasant snarl.

“What do _you_ want?”

Bernice poked him hard in the back and hissed, “What are you doing? You complete and utter cretin, kiss the man.”

He ignored her, all of a sudden angry beyond words. He’d spent the last few weeks dreaming of Jacob, of seeing him again, laughing with him, tumbling in and out of bed with him...and for what? Jacob was going to spend the rest of his life with someone else. What was the point in talking to him now and making a raw wound even worse?

“Go away,” was the politest thing he could come up with. He was swinging the door shut before he’d even finished speaking, but forgot to take Jacob’s freakishly fast reactions into account. The prince had a boot wedged into the doorway and a hand on the frame in a heartbeat.

“Hold on, just what’s going on here? Are you all right?” his voice was low and worried and did all kinds of twisty things to Carlos’ stomach.

“Nothing’s going on,” Carlos snapped back. “I just don’t have the energy to be used any longer.”

“What?” Jacob looked genuinely baffled. “Used? What are you talking about?”

“Birthday ball,” Carlos said with as much venom as he could muster. “Choosing a bride, ring any bells? Was this the plan all along? Use me for some fun while you wait to turn eighteen and get married?”

Jacob’s mouth was hanging open, he blinked rapidly and made some odd popping noises. “I don’t...I wouldn’t...I _didn’t_...I don’t want to get married!”

“Save it.” Carlos kicked Jacob’s foot out of the way and slammed the door as hard as he could.

Bernice’s shocked gaze was the first thing he saw when he turned around. Old Tom was behind her with a carving knife in his hand.

“Good for you, son,” he said wheezily. “Royals, all the same. Take, take, take, ‘s’all they do. You’re better off without ‘em. ‘Course, now you’ll need to find someone else to go on all those cosy little picnics with.” He eyed Bernice meaningly. “Best think on it, lad.”

Carlos felt a flush color his cheeks. Old Tom chuckled and turned away, starting back up the stairs.

“’Course,” the older man looked over his shoulder, foot poised on the first step. “If you really like that handsome laddie out there, you’d be a fool not to give him a chance to explain himself. If you don’t, you ain’t gonna be sleeping with him in my cornfield again.”

He chuckled as Carlos’ blush deepened. “I’m old, Carlos, not blind. And certainly not deaf.” He transferred his gaze to Bernice. “Even your mother never made that much noise in bed. Honestly, sounded like a couple of tom cats goin’ at it, so it did.”

Bernice choked and clutched at the bannister rail for support.

Old Tom shrugged and went on up the stairs. “Well, whatever you do, just do it quietly, all right? I’m due another hour or two of sleep.”

“Carlos?” Jacob’s voice was muffled by the thick door but still insistent. “Carlos, what the hell? Open the door.”

On one hand, Carlos wanted to open the door and give Jacob a chance to explain himself, on the other, he was too angry with both the other man and himself to listen to anything right then.

“Go away, Jacob,” he called. “Go back to your castle and find yourself a wife. I’ll just pretend we never met.”

“What?!” Jacob sounded angry now. “What are you...I don’t want to go back, I want you, you numb-skulled idiot. Open the damn door. Carlos?”

“Open the door,” Bernice said, moving toward it herself. “Come on, Carlos, don’t be a moron all your life.”

“No,” he caught her arm and swung her around before she took hold of the bolt. “Leave it. I don’t want to see him.”

She shook his hand off and glared at him. “Look, I know it’s a bit of a shock, him having to get married and all, but really, didn’t you expect it? He’s a prince, Carlos. He’s not like us. He’s got people expecting things of him. We can live and die here and nobody’ll care one way or the other, but him, he’s got to make a difference. If he doesn’t nobody will respect him or remember him. Yes, you think he used you and I can see why but when you think about it, I reckon Jacob’s got the worse end of the deal.”

Deep down, Carlos knew what she said made sense and that he was being somewhat unreasonable. But after so much longing, it was beyond painful to have his happy ending pulled out from beneath him. “I don’t care,” he rasped harshly. “If he always knew about this, he should never have done...any of what we did, should he?”

Bernice pressed her lips together unhappily and didn’t reply.

“Carlos?” Jacob’s voice came through the door again. “Please?”

Carlos shut his eyes and wished the world would just go away.


	11. Chapter 11

When Carlos opened his eyes again, he wasn’t in the narrow hallway of Old Tom’s farmhouse. He wasn’t anywhere, as far as he could see. Everything around him, on each side, was a strange grey mist. He even seemed to be standing on it. Well, this was odd.

“Um, hello?” he called hesitantly, wondering whether he’d just gone abruptly mad.

Clay and Roque materialized out of a mist bank to the left of him, identical pissed-off expressions on their faces. Carlos went to take an instinctive step backward, but found that his legs wouldn’t work. As much as he tried to tell them to move, they stayed firmly where they were. Folding his arms, he decided brazening it out was the best idea.

“What’s going on?”

The two godfathers stopped in front of him, Clay spoke first. “Strange, I was just about to ask the same thing.”

Carlos lifted his chin defiantly. “Don’t know what you mean.”

Clay stepped closer, Carlos twitched and wondered why he couldn’t move.

“Now, you listen to me.” Clay’s voice was low and calm and somehow a lot more threatening than it had been a moment ago. “This is your chance, your happy ending, right here. You’re about to piss it away. What happened?”

Carlos growled low in his throat. “None of your business.”

Roque snorted inelegantly. “Oh, now he says it’s none of our business. C’mon Clay, let’s just go, serve him right if we leave him here.”

“Where am I?” Carlos asked quickly, panic flaring in his gut. They wouldn’t really leave him in this weird grey nether-world, would they?

Clay narrowed his eyes. “You’re between the worlds at the moment. Seemed the best way to try to pound some sense into that thick head of yours.”

“Not thick,” Carlos ground out, balling his hands into fists at his sides.

“So why are you messing this up?” Clay was right up in his face, all angry eyes and tight mouth.

“Not my fault.” Every word cost Carlos but he realized he had to talk, there was no way he’d get back to the real world if he stayed silent. “Jacob’s fault. Ask him.”

Roque threw up his hands and shook his head. “We’ll be here all night, Clay. Just give up and let him stew in losing his happy ever after.”

“Maybe,” Clay said musingly, stroking his chin. “Or maybe we’ll do as he says.” He closed his eyes and whispered, “Jacob.” The word seemed to take on a form of it’s own, hanging in the air in front of Clay, a tiny green cloud of smoke amidst the grey wasteland. He swiped his hand through it and it vanished but the real Jacob appeared in its place.

Carlos stared, his mouth open. Seeing magic done took some getting used to. Jacob apparently thought so too, he looked woozy and shocked and swayed alarmingly, but didn’t fall. His feet were wreathed in the grey mist, just like Carlos’. Tendrils wrapped around his legs, clinging almost lovingly.

“What...what the...where...who...Carlos?” Jacob’s eyes were impossibly big and almost painfully blue. Carlos bit his lip and reminded himself why he was angry.

“All right,” Clay rubbed both hands together, his face set and determined. “Now, I don’t know what went wrong between you two, but a few minutes ago, you, Carlos, were all set to have the happiest of happy endings and now it seems to have gone to shit. So, both of you, explain.”

“What the...” Jacob spluttered again, then straightened and pulled on his haughty ‘prince of the realm’ face. “Who are you? Where am I? Release me right now and maybe this won’t end with you in jail.”

“Save it, kid. Just talk,” Roque muttered behind him. Carlos couldn’t help a cruel smile as he saw how Jacob jumped at the big godfather’s voice.

Clay’s eyes were fixed on his own face, Carlos looked away and down at the swirling mist. Clay laughed mirthlessly.

“Why do I always get the awkward jobs?”

“Because you piss too many people off?” Roque offered.

“Could be,” Clay agreed, circling Carlos, staring at him intently. His gaze felt like a thousand tiny pinpricks down Carlos’ spine.

“Fine,” Carlos burst out. “What does it matter if you know or not. He’s all set to marry someone else.” He jerked his head at Jacob, who was watching Roque like he was a bear about to attack. “Sorry, looks like your hard work was for nothing. You may as well have left me with Wade. No happy endings here.”

Jacob spluttered and the tips of his ears turned pink. “Carlos, why are you...what are you telling ‘em that for? Who are they? Where are we? Why are you so mad with me? It’s not like I want to marry someone, my parents are making me.”

“And you’re incapable of saying no,” Carlos spat and looked away.

“I did say no!” Jacob cried. “I said it till I was blue in the face and nobody listened! I told ‘em I wanted you and nobody took any notice.”

Carlos forced a deep breath out through his nose and pressed his lips together tightly. Jacob’s shoulders slumped a little. He turned his attention to Clay.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on or where we are or anything, can you fill in a few blanks? And why can’t I move? This is really disconcerting.”

“You’re somewhere without any distractions,” Clay rumbled in reply. “We need you and Carlos here to have a little chat. And you can’t move because if you could, you’d be running away, wouldn’t you?”

“Good point,” Jacob conceded. “When you say ‘somewhere without any distractions’, what exactly does that mean?”

“World between worlds,” Roque growled.

“Of course,” Jacob gave a bemused smile, the one which made Carlos’ chest go tight. “I would’ve guessed that next.” He looked at Clay, “And you are..?”

“About to kick your collective asses if you don’t kiss and make up,” Roque said, his teeth gleaming in the dull light which seemed to emanate from the mist.

“Roque,” Clay said reprovingly. “Gently, all right? Not everything needs brute force.”

“Most things do,” Roque grumbled, but lapsed into silence.

“We’re fairy godfathers,” Clay said.

Jacob raised his eyebrows and glanced at Carlos. “Seriously?”

Carlos gave a jerky nod. “Yeah.”

“All right,” Jacob drew out the words, “let’s just skate right over the part where I thought magic had gone for good. Why are you tormenting us? Is it ‘bait Jacob and Carlos day’ and no-one told me? Is this fun for you?”

“Ungrateful pups,” Roque snarled. “They deserve to be miserable.”

Clay merely smiled. Carlos found that smile more unnerving than Roque’s anger.

“We’re ‘tormenting’ you because we have a job to do. We were sent to free Carlos and get the two of you back together. Despite what you seem to think, you are meant to be together. Humans just have a way of screwing up the best matches.”

Carlos glared at Jacob. “He means you, swanning off to marry some bimbo.”

“I am not swanning anywhere!” Jacob yelled. He tried to step forward, forgot his legs were trapped and flailed wildly to keep his balance. Carlos laughed nastily.

“Hey,” Jacob said, his cheeks flushing, “I was looking for you, all right? You just vanished, nobody else cared but I kept looking. I didn’t give up, I wanted to find you. Right now I’m not sure why.”

“Because you wanted more sex in cornfields,” Carlos snapped.

“Maybe, but I’m rethinking who it’s with,” Jacob retorted.

“Bastard.”

“Prick.”

“Lying git.”

“Ungrateful yokel.”

“Enough!” Clay yelled and made a complicated gesture. It felt like an invisible hand had been slapped over Carlos’ mouth, try as he might, no words would go past his throat. From Jacob’s shocked expression, he was feeling the same sensation.

“Ah, peace,” Roque grinned. “I love magic sometimes.”

“That’s better,” Clay said softly, looking at Carlos and Jacob in turn. “Now, let me see whether I have a complete grip on the situation. You, Carlos are pissed at Jacob because you believe he used you, right? That he doesn’t care about you and was only ever with you in order to pass the time until he gets married. Am I on the right track?”

Carlos nodded sharply, almost glad he couldn’t talk. He wasn’t sure what he would have said at that point.

“All right, then.” Clay turned to Jacob. “You’re pissed at Carlos because you were expecting to walk off into the sunset when you found him again, and it didn’t turn out that way, am I right? Instead of kisses, you got yelled at.”

Jacob nodded too, his blue eyes glittering.

“Are you getting married?”

Jacob looked at Clay and raised both hands, palm upward. Carlos rolled his eyes. How could he not know? A man generally knew whether he intended to get married or not.

“Do you _want_ to get married?” Clay seemed to be taking the ‘one question at a time so as not to confuse the humans’ approach.

Jacob shook his head vehemently. Huh, did he mean it? Carlos gnawed on his bottom lip. Given their current predicament, Jacob had no reason to lie. He really didn’t want to get married?

“You parents, huh?” Clay sounded sympathetic. “Making you do it?”

A short nod. Carlos felt his anger beginning to melt, but reminded himself that Jacob was almost a man, if he really wanted to say no to his parents, surely he could have.

Clay’s deep eyes were on him again, Carlos wanted to flinch away from the judgment in them but forced himself to stare back impassively.

“You don’t believe him.” It wasn’t a question, so Carlos didn’t move or make any kind of reply. “You think he planned this all along, that he never wanted you at all, you were just something to pass the time.”

Hot, scalding anger bubbled up inside Carlos at Clay’s words. Yes, he did think that. Wasn’t it obvious? He’d been such an idiot, letting himself fall for Jacob’s kind words and shining eyes. Clay leaned in conspiratorially.

“Bullshit.”

Carlos raised both eyebrows.

“You heard me,” Clay said calmly. “Bullshit. Jacob never used you, any more than you used him. If you never suspected that life might not be as simple as the two of you living happily ever after, you’re a fool. He’s a prince, you’re not. I know that shouldn’t mean anything but sadly it does. People expect things of him where they don’t of you. You think he’s the one with power but really he’s a puppet and his parents hold the strings. You’re the one free to do as you wish. If you can’t or won’t appreciate that, you’re a hypocrite and don’t deserve a happy ending.”

“I might be new at this godfather-ing stuff,” Roque put in, “but even I can tell there’s something going on between the two of you. I can feel it. It’s like lightning waiting in a cloud. It’s crackling, all the time. I don’t know what real love between two humans feels like but if this is the usual, no wonder it’s all you people think about.”

“It’s not usual,” Clay said quietly. “Most love just simmers, flashes bright now and then but for the most part it meanders along without much meaning. This is different. This is true love.”

Carlos saw the ‘yeah, right’ expression on Jacob’s face and knew his own was similar.

Clay shrugged. “Love hurts. It means giving a part of yourself to someone else, of course it’s gonna smart from time to time. That’s what shows that it’s real. The kind of blissful happy endings you humans have in stories don’t really happen. Love is sometimes a pain in the ass and no doubt at some point between now and the day you die, both of you will wish you didn’t love the other and that you’d never met.”

Carlos punctuated his words with nods.

“Shut up,” Clay frowned at him. “I’m stating facts, didn’t ask for your opinion.”

Glaring at the fairy made Carlos feel a little better but he wasn’t in a position to do anything else.

“Now,” Clay clapped his hands and Carlos gasped as the pressure over his mouth vanished. “Can you two play nice or do I have to think of some way to keep you from scratching each other’s eyes out?”

“I won’t if he won’t,” Jacob said, rubbing at his throat.

“Bite me,” Carlos spat back, not ready to roll over and forgive just yet.

“You’re a proper little wildcat, aren’t you?” Clay sounded amused but his eyes weren’t. “Maybe we need to come up with a new name for you. Something that’ll warn people you like having your claws out every second of the day.”

Carlos snorted and looked away. This was all a load of crap. His head was aching and everything was getting jumbled up. Did he like Jacob or not right now? He wasn’t sure. Yes, he still wanted to jump on him and kiss him like he’d never kissed anyone in his life but he also vaguely wanted to punch him. Shaking his head like an exhausted prize fighter, Carlos squeezed his eyes shut, the glare from the mist was making his headache worse.

“I think the two of you need some alone time.”

Carlos looked up quickly, what did that mean? Was Clay going to just leave them there? Jacob was obviously thinking the same thing, for he said sharply,

“What? What do you mean? You can’t just bugger off and leave us. Where are we? How do we get out of here?”

“Relax,” Clay said, “we won’t leave you here. I was thinking back in your world, you need some time together. To sort shit out, you know?”

“All right,” Jacob said slowly, then looked straight at Carlos. “Do you mind?”

Yes, he did mind a little bit, being alone with Jacob meant having to talk about things and Carlos really wasn’t looking forward to that. But, he had a nasty feeling Clay would make it mandatory alone time if he refused, so he simply sighed and shook his head.

“Good,” Clay grinned. “Go see Max.”

“What?” Carlos burst out, taken by surprise.

“Go see Max,” Clay repeated, pronouncing each word clearly as though talking to an idiot. “Maybe a joint cause will get the two of you working together again. Go see your stepfather, let him see you’re back and have no intention of letting him send you away again.”

“Ha!” Jacob cried. “I knew he was behind it, I told everyone but nobody listened.”

“Carlos?” Clay said, cocking his head to one side. “You up for this?”

“Fine,” Carlos said. No, he didn’t really want to do any of it, but Clay would probably magic him straight to Max anyway, so he didn’t have much of a choice.

Clay smirked, snapped his fingers and the mist vanished.

***

Carlos’ head spun at suddenly being back in Old Tom’s farmhouse again. Bernice was staring at him like he’d grown another arm or something.

“Carlos? What’s wrong? Why are you looking all blank?”

“Huh?” So it wasn’t his most intelligent response but under the circumstances, he figured it was acceptable. Outside the door, he could hear the other man who’d followed Jacob to the farm also questioning why Jacob looked ‘weird’.

Wrenching the door open, he found himself looking at a wild-eyed prince.

“Did that...” Jacob began, then stopped. “Did you just...”

Carlos nodded. “Interfering fairies.”

“Interfering fairies which can send us into another world,” Jacob was talking slowly, as though he was trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

“What are you talking about?” The other man, Carlos dimly remembered Jacob calling him ‘Pooch’, asked. “And what’s wrong with you? You kinda went...strange. Your face went blank and you froze and didn’t answer me.”

“Same here,” Bernice said, nodding at Carlos.

Over Pooch’s shoulder, Carlos saw Clay and Roque slowly walking toward the house. “Um...” he began, trying desperately to think of a way to explain the last few minutes.

“Mass hallucination,” Jacob said quickly, following Carlos’ gaze. “Happens all the time. Excuse us?”

Leaving Pooch and Bernice to share bemused looks, Carlos strode to meet the two godfathers, Jacob at his heels.

“What was that?” he hissed. “Did you have to do that? How are we supposed to explain being out of our bodies for the last few minutes?”

Clay shrugged. “I don’t care, just do it and don’t mention us.”

“Asshole,” Carlos spat.

Roque chuckled. “Hey, I think he’s got the measure of you, Clay.”

“You were included in that ‘asshole’ you know,” Clay pointed out.

Roque’s expression darkened. “Ungrateful pup.”

“I’m not going to see Max,” Carlos folded his arms across his chest. “And I’m definitely not going with him.” He jerked his head at Jacob.

“Would you give me a break?” Jacob said. “I’m the one being forced into matrimony against my will, remember?”

“And I’m the one being left high and dry,” Carlos retorted. “Forgive me if I don’t feel much like being best friends with you right now.”

“I’ll gag you both again if I have to,” Clay warned. Roque gave him a pleading look. “I don’t care whether you want to go see Max, you’re going and that’s the end of it. Jacob’s going with you ‘cause if you go alone he’ll probably get the drop on your sorry ass all over again and you’ll be back to playing the helpless damsel in the tower.”

“I am not helpless,” Carlos snarled.

“You were when we found you,” Roque said coolly.

Carlos narrowed his eyes and tried to look dangerous but couldn’t argue with what was basically the truth. He sighed dramatically, knowing he was being prissy but too angry and hurt to care. “Fine.”

“Good, time to go, then,” Clay grinned, raising his hands.

“Wait,” Jacob said swiftly. “What about Pooch?”

“What about him?” Clay raised his eyebrows.

“We can’t just vanish in front of him, can we?” Jacob said in his best ‘you should already know this, it’s so obvious’ voice.

Carlos was tempted to smile, then remembered that soon that voice would be murmuring sweet nothings to some undeserving woman, and went cold with fury again.

“Right,” Clay nodded. “Good point, I knew that. Just testing to see whether you did.”

Roque snorted softly. “Yeah, right.”

“All right,” Clay said, sounding long-suffering. “I’ll erase his memory of the last few minutes and make him wait here patiently till you get back. That enough for you?”

“No,” Jacob said, frowning. “He’s my friend, I don’t want his memory messed with. What if he, you know, forgets who he is or something? I can’t be responsible for him spending the rest of his life thinking he’s a duck.”

“If you don’t stop babbling, you’ll spend the rest of your life thinking you’re a slug,” Clay said.

Jacob put both hands on his hips and stood his ground, Carlos had to give him points for having guts. “I’m not going without Pooch.”

Clay pinched the bridge of his nose. “You know, the two of you are perfect for each other. Little Damsel Pissy Pants and Prince Awkward Bugger. You’ll be great together.”

Both Carlos and Jacob opened their mouths to protest but Roque held up a hand. “Fine, the oddly named guy can go with you.” He glanced at Clay. “What harm can it do?”

“Whatever,” Clay growled.

Carlos thought perhaps the older fairy deserved the ‘pissy pants’ title more than he did.

“Great,” Jacob grinned. His teeth flashed in the light which was beginning to flood the gentle valley Old Tom’s house stood in.

He was gorgeous, Carlos thought miserably. Gorgeous and funny and kind and about to spend the rest of his life smiling at someone else. His yell of “Pooch, get over here!” jolted Carlos out his unhappy reverie.

Pooch jogged over, a wary expression on his face. “My Lord?”

“Pooch, we’re going on a trip.”

Jacob bounced on the balls of his feet. He was obscenely happy, Carlos thought uncharitably.

“I can hardly wait, My Lord,” Pooch said. His eyes flickered over Carlos, cool and assessing.

“Yes, Pooch, this is Carlos,” Jacob said, his smile fading.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Pooch said in Carlos’ direction, not bothering to meet his gaze.

Carlos couldn’t blame the man for being less than friendly, he had after all slammed the door on his employer. Unsure what to say to ease the tension, Carlos simply nodded.

Beyond their little group, he could see Bernice hovering in the doorway of the farmhouse. He tried to give her a reassuring smile but the muscles of his face felt stiff and unnatural. She clutched her dress more tightly about her as Clay said brightly, “All right then, everyone acquainted? Let’s go.”

***

He should really be getting used to the whirling lights and sickening thud as he hit solid ground by now, Carlos thought as he careened into Jacob, who in turn fell against Pooch. Pooch was more dizzy than any of them and promptly collapsed under Jacob’s weight, taking the prince and Carlos with him. Squinting up into Clay and Roque’s amused faces, Carlos wondered whether there might not be a slightly easier way to travel.

Jacob put a hand to his head and groaned. “That’s simultaneously terrible and fantastic. Can we do it again?”

Pooch feebly swatted at Jacob’s shoulder. “Shut up. I’m not doin’ that again. Ever.” He looked at Clay, “You know, whatever it was we just did and whoever these two gentlemen are.”

“Pooch, fairy godfathers, fairy godfathers, Pooch, my valet,” Jacob reeled off the introductions with his head still cradled in his hands.

“Are you drunk?” Pooch asked quietly. Carlos grinned.

“No, Pooch,” Jacob said in a long-suffering tone. “Not drunk. Why does everyone always assume I’ve been drinking?”

“Because you come out with the most ridiculous crap,” Carlos said spitefully. “You babble, constantly.”

Jacob raised his head and gave Carlos a hurt look which made him wish he hadn’t opened his mouth at all. Yes, he was still being pissy and nasty and circumstances might not be altogether Jacob’s fault but still, it was galling to find the love of one’s life heading off to marry someone else. Carlos looked away and didn’t say anything more.

“All right,” Clay said quietly. “Get up, all of you. This isn’t a pleasure cruise, you’ve got work to do.”

“Oh yeah,” Jacob said, clambering to his feet unsteadily. “Max. Where is that slimy bastard? I’ve got a few things I wanna say to him.”

“Get in line,” Carlos growled.

“Ah, true love,” Pooch chuckled. “The couple that exacts vengeance on vindictive family members together...”

Jacob’s eyes found Carlos’. They were deep and worried and almost frightened. Carlos kind of understood how the other man felt. A few weeks ago, yes, they’d been a couple and they would happily have died for each other. Did they still have that bond now? Or had anger and distrust shattered it?

“Let’s go,” he said abruptly, wanting to get the whole thing over and done with. “Max will be in bed at this hour. Clay, can you send us into the house or should I just break in?”

“Hold on,” Jacob held out a hand, “what’s the plan? Are we gonna talk to him and find out why he sent you away or just beat him up? I have no problem with either plan, I just like to know what I’m supposed to do beforehand.”

“Whatever, it’s up to you,” Clay smirked. “We’ll be around when you’re done.”

“What?” Carlos glared at the two fairies. “You’re leaving?”

Clay shrugged, loose and fluid. “My orders say to get you and your prince back together. That’s what I’m doing. Now, whether the two of you actually _like_ each other is entirely up to you. So if you’re smart, take this chance to sort your shit out.”

And with that, he and Roque vanished. The still early morning air shimmered and rippled as though someone had just thrown a pebble into a pond.

“Annoying but impressive,” Jacob said softly. His eyes crept up to meet Carlos’. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Carlos said unhappily. Max was just a man, he knew that, but all the same, he couldn’t help the little tremor of fear which raced through him at the thought of confronting him.

“All right,” Jacob’s voice turned crisp, “Pooch, you wait here and keep an eye out.” He sent a tiny smile Carlos’ way and extended a hand toward the house. “Shall we?”

 ***

“Not to repeat myself,” Jacob whispered as they approached the kitchen door. “But do we have a plan? I know Clay’s doing this to make us work together and honestly that’s fine by me, ‘cause I think we need some serious alone time but all the same, what the hell are we doing? Adam and Henry will be in there too.” He jerked his head at the house. “I don’t want to sound like a defeatist but there’s a good chance we’ll get our asses kicked.”

“Adam and Henry sleep like the dead,” Carlos whispered back, but didn’t meet Jacob’s gaze.

Jacob swallowed, this really wasn’t how he’d imagined their great reunion going. In his head, he’d pictured long, slow kisses and declarations of love and a generally pleasing happily ever after. Having Carlos so abruptly mad at him was kind of like being soaked with freezing cold water, it was a heck of a shock to the system. Carlos was talking again, he dragged himself back to reality enough to listen.

“We can get Max without waking them, they’ve slept through thunderstorms and earthquakes before.”

“All right, we get Max, then what?”

“Do I have to plan everything?”

“Well, this is your family, I don’t want to intrude.”

Carlos raised both eyebrows. Jacob caved.

“All right, I’ve already interferred plenty, I know.” A faint smile played around Carlos’ lips. Jacob sensed an opening and dived for it recklessly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, you believe that, don’t you? All I wanted was you. Everyone else messed that up, I’d be happy to just get on a horse and ride as far away from all of this as possible.”

“You’d give up your fancy castle and devoted servants?” Carlos asked softly, shooting a glance toward Pooch.

Jacob nodded vehemently. “Yes.”

There was silence for a moment, Carlos scuffed his feet on the ground and looked thoughtful. When he looked back up he had a different expression on his face, more resigned. “No, you wouldn’t. If you did you’d hate me before long for taking away everything you know. It’s all right, I understand.”

Jacob opened his mouth to protest, but stopped as Carlos raised a hand. “Not now. Let’s just do what Clay dumped us here to do, then maybe we can sort this mess out afterward. Deal?”

Dealing with things later had never been Jacob’s forte, he liked to get problems out in the open and sorted out as soon as possible. But he saw Carlos’ point. Standing in a shadowy farmyard whispering at one another wasn’t the best way to resolve their issues. “Fine,” he said, only pouting a tiny bit. “Let’s go get Max and show him he messed with the wrong people.” He smiled as a thought occured to him. “The cellar! We could shove him in there, it’d be poetic justice, considering how many times he locked you in.”

Carlos chuckled, a tiny sound in the still air. “I like it.”

***

“You think they’re gonna kill each other?” Roque sounded almost hopeful.

“No.” Clay scratched at his back, damn bugs in this world were more vicious than any in the Fae lands. “Give ‘em time, they’ll be fine.”

“You sure about that?” Roque peered through the trees as though he could see into the farmhouse and keep an eye on the two young men. “Carlos seemed pretty mad.”

“Of course he’s mad,” Clay said irritably. “He thought it was going to be all sweetness and light when he got back here and it turns out his prince is set to have a happy ending with someone else. Wouldn’t you be a little angry?”

Roque shrugged. “Never paid much thought to it.”

“You’ve never been in love?” Clay was genuinely surprised, most fairies were known for constantly flinging themselves in and out of torrid affairs with one another.

“Nah,” Roque shook his head. “Seemed like too much effort for no reward.”

Clay smiled slowly and bit into a juicy blade of grass, coated with sweet morning dew. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Roque.”

Roque’s dark eyes rested on him for a moment, utterly unreadable. He smiled, just a faint twitch of lips, and went back to staring through the trees.

***

“Would you be _quiet_?” Carlos hissed as Jacob stood on yet another creaky floorboard. Breaking into the farmhouse had been easy, always had been. Getting out again was usually the difficult part.

“I’m _trying_ ,” Jacob replied. “I don’t know this place like you do. I can sneak round the castle no problem, I’m a damn ghost there...”

Carlos slapped a hand over Jacob’s mouth as a loud grunt and the sound of someone turning over in bed came from behind the door closest to them.

“Adam,” Carlos breathed. Jacob nodded, his stubble rasping against Carlos’ hand.

It sent little shivers through Carlos’ whole body to be that close to him again. He could just accept that Jacob had no control over what his parents had planned for him, maybe they could still meet up sometimes, surely he could evade his wife every now and then...no, it was too horrible to even contemplate. The pleasant shivers gave way to cold dread as he thought of being Jacob’s dirty little secret, no, he couldn’t live with that. He pulled his hand away from Jacob’s mouth, maybe being further away from him might help.

“Where’s Max?” Jacob asked.

Carlos pointed to the door at the end of the hall.

“So what are we going to do when we get in there?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos replied. “Wing it, I suppose.”

“My favorite plan,” Jacob grinned. “Let’s show that bastard he can’t get away with screwing with us.”

‘Us’, a little word but it carried a lot of weight. Was there still an ‘us’ as far as he and Jacob were concerned, Carlos wondered. Did he want there to be? Oh yes. Could it work out happily for them? That was more doubtful.

Shoving his worries aside, Carlos made his way to Max’s door and quietly pushed it open.

 


	12. Chapter 12

Max was a lumpy form in the bed. Carlos stared at him for a moment, wondering whether he had the nerve to take on the man who’d made his life a misery. Behind him, Jacob growled softly. A rasping sound split the air, appallingly loud but in reality nothing more than a whisper. Carlos looked back and saw a slim knife in Jacob’s hand. He raised his eyebrows, Jacob shrugged and gave a half-smile.

Carlos clicked his fingers impatiently. If there was a knife to be had, he wanted it. He was the one who had to get Max out of bed and into the cellar. Jacob shook his head. Carlos glared and clicked his fingers again. After a moment of silently trying to out-stare each other, Jacob rolled his eyes and dragged another knife from his boot-top. He flipped it and presented it to Carlos, handle first, with a exaggerated flourish.

Feeling a little braver now that he had a weapon in his hand, Carlos took a deep breath and approached the bed. Max was sleeping with the careless abandon of someone who is completely secure in their life. Carlos’ lip curled into a snarl. The bastard, he was to blame for all of this, well, almost all, at least seventy percent. Before his courage deserted him, he grabbed a stray handkerchief from the floor and stuffed it into Max’s open mouth.

The older man’s eyes flew open, disoriented and confused. Carlos gripped his hair and shook him roughly, the knife bare at Max’s throat.

“Don’t yell, just shut up and do what you’re told.”

Max’s gaze fastened onto Carlos. “You?” It was muffled but his amazement and dismay were evident.

Jacob ripped back the covers and strode round to the other side of the bed, grabbing Max’s arm and dragging him out onto his feet. Carlos couldn’t resist hanging onto Max’s hair for a moment, giving it a good hard pull. Considering how many times he’d had that done to him, it seemed fair.

“Urgh,” Jacob wrinkled his nose at Max’s crumpled nightshirt. “So not fashionable.” Max growled and struggled but Jacob’s knife was at his throat now, slicing through the top layer of skin easily. “Shut up,” Jacob breathed silkily. “Or we’ll kill you right here.”

Killing Max hadn’t been the plan, Carlos shot Jacob a surprised look. Jacob grinned behind Max and shrugged. His ‘just go with it’ was easy enough to hear, even if he didn’t voice it. Hardening his face, Carlos seized a belt from the dresser and wound it around Max’s hands. He seemed to have enough sense not to argue, Jacob’s knife was still hovering below his Adam’s apple.

“All right,” Carlos picked up his own blade again and poked Max in the arm. “Move. Quietly. Make a noise and you’ll regret it, I promise.”

Jacob shoved Max forward, the arm wrapped around his neck keeping him from running. Carlos went first, creeping past his stepbrothers’ doors, listening as hard as he could for any sign that they were awake. But they both snored on, unaware that their father was in trouble.

Getting Max downstairs wasn’t without its difficulties but with Carlos in front, moving backwards, his knife never far from the older man’s face and Jacob still muscling him along from behind, they managed it. A few minutes later they were in the gloom of the cellar and Carlos began to feel a little giddy with glee.

Allowing himself a smile, he said quietly as Jacob pushed Max down onto the dirty floor, “Bet you never thought you’d be the one down here, did you?”

Without really meaning to, he kicked Max’s thigh. The wince from Max was intoxicating and made him feel like he was flying. “How many times did you lock me in? You have any idea how scary it is down here for a kid?” Another kick, another wince. “Bastard.”

It was easy to keep kicking him, it felt good, he was finally paying the slimeball back for all the years of hurt he’d suffered. As he was close enough, Carlos leaned in and added a punch for good measure. Max’s head snapped around, he whined high in the back of his throat and tried to shuffle away. Carlos pinned him to the floor by sitting on his legs. It was the most natural thing in the world to just aim at Max’s face and keep hitting him until he stopped giving those annoying muffled yells.

“Hate you, hate you, hate you, you evil son of a bitch,” Carlos heard himself gasp as each punch connected.

Someone caught his arm as he drew it back for yet another blow. Carlos growled and tried to throw them off but strong hands wrapped around his biceps and dragged him backward, off of Max and up onto his feet.

“Hey,” Jacob hissed right into Carlos’s ear. “Stop it. I know we’re in the right but even so, we’re still technically breaking the law here. If you kill him, you’ll get us both into trouble even I can’t get us out of. I’m not gonna watch them throw you in jail for the rest of your life.” He shook Carlos a little harder with every word. “You with me?”

Breathing hard, Carlos nodded once. Jacob was right, giving in to the desire to simply kick Max to death would be beyond stupid. He didn’t much fancy the idea of spending the rest of his days in jail, either. Jacob let out a relieved sigh and released Carlos’ arms.

“So, er, now what?” his mouth was against Carlos’ ear again.

With his breath was still coming in short, hard gasps, Carlos turned and gripped the back of Jacob’s neck before he thought too much about what he was doing. Screw being angry and proper decorum and all that crap. Whether he liked it or not, he’d missed Jacob and refusing a chance like this was just dumb.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss, there was nothing sweet about it, but Carlos’ blood started pounding in his ears and sweat prickled at the backs of his knees. Judging by the way Jacob’s hands scrabbled at his back, pulling him closer, the prince didn’t have any complaints either.

After a moment, Carlos let go of Jacob and stepped back, rubbing his mouth thoughtfully. Jacob stared at him, blinking rapidly in the way which meant he was formulating a lot of questions in his head. Before he had a chance to release the torrent of words already building up inside him, Carlos said quickly, “Sorry. Got carried away.”

Max made a muffled yet still disgusted noise behind the handkerchief.

Carlos glared at him and barely resisted the urge to kick him again. “What?”

Jacob bent and hooked the makeshift gag from Max’s mouth, then stood back, wiping his hand on his breeches as though he’d just handled a particularly slimy slug. “Well?”

“How did you get back here, you little runt?” Max snarled, twisting his hands, trying to get free. “I got rid of you, you can’t be here.”

“Tough,” Carlos replied. “Here I am, how doesn’t matter. But now I’m back I’m gonna make sure you pay for everything you’ve done over the years.”

Max laughed. “Oh, like anyone’s really going to care about what I had to do to control a wayward boy. They’ll give me an award for putting up with you.”

Carlos snarled and hauled his foot back to let fly another kick, but Jacob grabbed him and pushed his face up close into his.

“Stop it. For the love of...just let me talk to him, all right?”

Bunching his hands into fists didn’t make Carlos feel any better but he knew Jacob had a point. He really wasn’t the best person to question Max.

“Thank you,” Jacob pushed him a few steps away and positioned himself so that he was safely between Max and Carlos’ right foot. “Now, you, listen for a minute and try to understand just how deep the shit you’re in really is.”

Max snorted and rolled his eyes, but kept quiet.

“Well done,” Jacob’s voice grew softer. “Now, just to pass the time, tell me why you sent Carlos away.”

“Screw you.”

“Now, now, be nice,” Jacob said reproachfully, “remember who you’re talking to.”

“A baby prince with a stick up his ass about my dumb stepson,” Max spat, once again trying to free his hands. “Why did you ever have to meet him? Everything was going so well, then you turned up and started getting secrets out of him.”

“Secrets?” Carlos said, confused. “What secrets?”

“Yes, Max,” Jacob’s smile suddenly held far too many teeth. His knife pricked at Max’s neck again. “What secrets?”

Max clamped his mouth shut and glared at Carlos. His eyes turned sly after a moment. “Did you hear that your prince is going to be married soon? Bit underhanded of him, don’t you think? As soon as your skinny ass was out of the way, he was off looking for a bride. Were you glad when he rescued you? Did you play the weeping damsel?” He smiled, “How keen are you to sleep with him again now? Knowing, as you do, that he only ever used you for sex and never intended on making an honest man of you.”

“Shut up,” Carlos growled, dodging Jacob to aim another kick at his still smirking stepfather.

“Hey!” Jacob’s hands closed on his shirt and dragged him away again.

“Get off me,” Carlos snarled, squirming madly. “Let me go, now, I mean it.”

“Why?” Jacob’s patience seemed to have run its course, he propelled Carlos backward into the nearest wall and leaned on him, keeping him there by virtue of superior bodyweight. “So you can kill that bastard and end up in jail for the rest of your days? You honestly think I’m gonna let you do that?”

“Why would you care?” Carlos spat. “Marrying someone else, aren’t you? You’ll be too busy being happy to think about me.”

Jacob fisted both hands in Carlos’ shirt and none too gently shook him, banging the back of his head against the wall. “How many times do I have to explain this before you get it? I do not want to get married,” he punctuated each word with another shake, making Carlos snarl again.

“My parents are setting the whole thing up, I told them I don’t want to do it but they don’t take any notice. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of it and I’m freakin’ terrified! The only thing I could think of doing which wasn’t scary enough to require clean underwear five times a day was finding you. You’re the one I want, not that anyone else believed that. Well, maybe Pooch believed it, but he’s the only one. So I ran away, I ran away from home, I’m almost freakin’ eighteen and I ran away from home, how pathetic am I?” He released one hand from Carlos’ shirt to wipe it across his face. “Now somehow, you’re here and everything should be perfect but it’s not and I don’t know what to do. Clay made us come here to try to fix everything but I don’t know if it will. You hate me, don’t you? Maybe you’re right, I’m an ass, I don’t know...”

“Who’s Clay?” Max asked cheerily.

Carlos ignored him, concentrating on processing Jacob’s words. “You are an ass.”

Jacob miserably dropped his gaze to the floor. Carlos took a deep breath and forced himself to go on speaking before the words got too jumbled in his mind.

“But you’re an ass I could get to like. I did like you, maybe, er, maybe even loved. I don’t know. Anyway, you really ran away to find me?”

Jacob nodded.

“And you really, honestly don’t want to marry some girl?”

“Do I look like I want to?” Jacob said, his eyes snapping angrily again.

Carlos grinned. “Just making sure.”

“So are we..?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe we’re all right.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Yeah, good.”

Jacob smoothed out the front of Carlos’ shirt. “Sorry for, um, manhandling you a little back there.”

“No problem.”

“Oh,” Max groaned, “if you two are about to start kissing, please just kill me now and spare me the misery of having to watch you.”

A tiny smile tugged at Jacob’s mouth. Cocking his head to one side, he raised an eyebrow. Carlos nodded and tugged him close.

They were out of practice, Carlos decided. Their teeth clashed before they sorted themselves out and Jacob’s tongue slid slickly along his bottom lip. Apparently wanting to make up for lost time, Jacob pushed a hand into Carlos’ hair and twisted gently, just the right side of painful. Carlos retaliated by gripping the prince’s ass firmly with both hands. Jacob moaned into his mouth.

Things were just getting beyond the point of no return when Clay’s voice shattered the moment. “Are you two done yet?”

***

Breaking apart, they both glared at the fairy godfather. Carlos’ head spun as he realized they were back in the grey nether world again.

“Would you stop bringing us here?”

“No,” Clay replied shortly, but with a triumphant smile. “I see you got your, er, issues sorted out.”

Shooting Jacob a quick glance, Carlos was slightly reassured to see that his cheeks were as red as his own currently felt.

“Save it,” Clay grinned. “I think the way you were trying to eat each other is answer enough. Glad you both grew up and stopped acting like adolescent girls for long enough to realize neither of you is the bad guy.”

“Is there a compliment in there somewhere?” Jacob asked, frowning.

“You want compliments, try the fairy godmothers,” Clay replied. “I hear they’re more gentle in their approach to dealing with idiots.”

“Whereas you threw us to the wolves and let us sink or swim,” Carlos said.

“Screwed up metaphors, but essentially, yes,” Clay replied, the satisfied smirk still in place. “Worked though, didn’t it?”

“I hate to agree with smug bastards, but I find I have no choice right now,” Jacob said in his haughtiest voice.

“Always listen to the fairy godfather, kid,” Clay replied. “Right then, I think it’s time we got you back to where you belong.” He stretched out his fingers and grinned again. “Ready to fly?”

“Hold on,” Carlos said, wondering whether all this being dragged from one place to another was really good for a normal human body. “This time tell us where you’re sending us and why and what you think we’re supposed to do when we get there. And what’s happening with Max? Did you just appear in front of him and zap us away?”

“Don’t be thick, Carlos,” Clay sounded pitying. “Of course I didn’t do that. Roque’s with him, creating a suitable distraction.”

Carlos opened his mouth to ask what a ‘suitable distraction’ of Roque’s devising might be, then decided he really didn’t want to know. Instead he said, “We need to do something about Max. He’s not gonna just take this lying down, he’ll try to make trouble again.”

“You’re in love with a prince,” Clay said, “if he can’t arrange for someone to mysteriously vanish, I don’t know who can.”

“Actually, I have no idea how to do that,” Jacob put in, shuffling from foot to foot.

Clay looked back and forth between them, then closed his eyes and massaged his temples. “Fine. I will do your dirty work and get rid of the annoying family members. This is above my pay grade and not in my job description, so I’ll bill you separately for services rendered, you understand?”

“What exactly _is_ in your job description?” Jacob snapped before Carlos could stop him. “And you still haven’t really told us why you’re doing this. Yes, I remember the ‘you two are supposed to be together’ reason, that’s not enough. Why are you going to all this trouble to make sure we don’t actually hate each other?”

Carlos winced as Clay tilted his head to one side and stared at Jacob. To his credit, Jacob stared back, his blue eyes never leaving Clay’s face. Clay snorted and grinned after a moment. Carlos let out the breath he’d been holding and unclenched his fists.

“You know, kid,” Clay said softly, “I really don’t know. My bosses tell me to go somewhere, do something, so I do it. They told me to get you two back together, that was it. They’re not big on details. Maybe you two are part of somethin’ bigger, maybe you’re not, I don’t know. That’s the honest truth.” He shook his head, “Not many humans feel the need to argue when I’m reuniting them with the love of their lives. Then again, the loves of their lives don’t often slam the door in their faces, that was unusual. Called for desperate measures, hence the Max thing.”

Carlos shot a guilty glance at Jacob. “Sorry about that. I was annoyed.”

“I’d hate to see you mad, then,” Jacob grinned back. “Forget it, doesn’t matter.”

“Finally!” Clay exclaimed, throwing both hands into the air.

“Finally, what?” Carlos asked, looking down at his body to see whether he’d been transformed into a frog or something.

“Took you a while but you’ve both got your thumbs out of your asses,” Clay replied, rocking on his heels in satisfaction. “I can see it, it’s there again.”

“What’s he talking about?” Jacob whispered loudly. “Do we have a crazy godfather on our hands?”

“True love, you moron,” Clay said. “That’s what you idiots have. You have any idea how rare that is?” He whistled softly, “And to think you almost threw it away.”

The pointed look he sent Carlos’ way made him flush again. All right, he’d almost thrown a shot at true love away, everyone made mistakes, didn’t they? At least things were set to rights now. Although how they were going to convince Jacob’s parents that their only heir really didn’t need to marry some unknown woman was a little beyond him. They’d plan for that later. Maybe after a night in Old Tom’s cornfield.

“So what happens now?” Jacob asked. “Do you just magic us back home and go...wherever it is you came from?”

“Maybe later,” Clay grinned. “I want to see what Roque’s been doing with Max first. And there’s the small matter of stopping your family forcing you into a wedding you don’t want.” He eyed Jacob shrewdly, “You don’t want it, do you?”

“No!” Jacob cried. “I don’t even like girls. They’re confusing and complicated and cry a lot and then slap you for trying to do what you thought they wanted you to do. I don’t need to be walking on eggshells for the rest of my life.”

“So I’m simple and dumb?” Carlos asked, but smiled. If being simple and uncomplicated meant he got to keep Jacob, he’d play his part to absolute perfection.

Jacob chuckled wearily, “No. You’re just...you. That’s enough.”

Carlos didn’t quite know what to say. That was...well, that really was.

Clay saved him, with his usual level of sarcasm blended with a frightening amount of perception, he said, “And worryingly, that is probably as close as either of you will ever get to a proper declaration of love. I keep telling my bosses, love is wasted on the young, but do they listen to me? No, of course not. I’m just a grunt in the field, what do I know?”

“A simple soldier in the army of love, huh,” Jacob laughed.

Clay narrowed his eyes. “Don’t push it, kid. I can still turn you into something slimy, you know.”

“Um, prince,” Jacob pointed at himself. “My job description clearly states that I need to look good at all times. ‘Something slimy’ simply won’t do. How would I look at balls and things, leaving a trail on the dance floor?”

“Speaking of balls and things...” Carlos raised both eyebrows. “Don’t we have to do something about your birthday?”

Jacob’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah. I’m just not looking forward to yet another argument with my parents.”

“Relax,” Clay rubbed his hands together briskly. “We’ll sort that out soon. But first, I need to go make sure Roque isn’t using Max for target practice or something.”

The grey misty walls around them vanished as Clay clapped his hands once more. Carlos almost felt sorry to be going home. At least in the nether world, he and Jacob were safe from real life.

***

He was definitely getting the hang of being flung between worlds. Carlos barely even stumbled as his feet connected with the packed dirt of Max’s cellar floor. Jacob wasn’t so fortunate and careened into him, but only an idiot complained about an opportunity to manhandle a prince. Carlos wasn’t an idiot and made sure he fully exploited the chance.

“Later,” Jacob whispered in his ear as he regained his balance. Carlos grinned wryly, seeing as they needed to deal with Max and then try to sort out the mess which was Jacob’s birthday ball, alone time would probably be thin on the ground.

The dim light in the cellar took a moment to get used to, but as his eyes adjusted, Carlos made out the still form of Max, lying slumped in a corner. Roque was standing near him, a satisfied look on his face.

“Dare I ask?” Clay said, sounding amused.

Roque smirked. “Knocking him out seemed like the easiest way to stop him seeing you and the kids popping in and out like demented ghosts.”

“Kids?” Jacob began, but subsided when Carlos squeezed his arm warningly.

“So you just, what, hit him?” Clay seemed disappointed. “All the power you have at your disposal, and you settle for as mundane a solution as that.”

“Of course not,” Roque rolled his eyes. “I also gave him the worst nightmares he’ll ever have in his life.” He nudged Max’s limp form with the toe of his boot. “I imagine he’s dreaming of being chased by rabid dragons right now.”

Carlos laughed out loud, remembering the bad dreams he’d usually suffered while being stuck down there. He nodded at Roque, “Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure,” Roque made a small bow in return. “He’s a piece of shit. Shame Clay wouldn’t let me kill him, he deserves it.”

“No argument here,” Carlos said warmly. “Could you do that?”

“Sure,” Roque cracked his knuckles and drew himself up to his full height.

“Stop.” Clay’s voice was soft but very authoritative. “Nobody’s killing anyone, is that clear?”

“Why are you such a killjoy?” Roque glared at him.

Clay just smirked. “Perks of seniority. Anyway you’re supposed to be a godfather, not a hit-fairy extraordinaire. Did you write the wrong team on your application or something? Offing people is not in our list of allowed activities. Only the Shadow fairies are authorized to do that.”

“We have a list of things we’re allowed to do?” Roque frowned. “Since when? And you turned that other bastard into a frog, how does that not constitute offing him?”

“He’s not dead,” Clay snapped. “He’s just a small cold-blooded amphibian. He’ll get used to eating flies at some point. And the list of authorized activities has been around forever. Figures that you’d never bother to read it. Now, come on, we’re wasting time.” He glanced at Jacob, “We need to go see your family, My Lord, and get this wedding crap sorted out.”

“What about him?” Carlos looked at Max. The older man’s face was twisted into a scared grimace and little frightened whimpers came from him every minute or so. “If we just leave him here, he’ll do more damage than we can repair. He won’t be satisfied to just wait to grab me again, he’ll come to find me and kill me if he can.” He tilted his chin up as he spoke, trying to make himself look unafraid, although in truth he wasn’t.

“I’ll take care of him,” Clay said confidently.

Quick footsteps suddenly clattered over the floorboards above their heads. Jacob moved to stand near the bottom of the stairs. “Your brothers?”

“Stepbrothers,” Carlos corrected him. “And no, they don’t walk that lightly. That must be Cook. It’s dawn, she’ll be making breakfast. Somebody will notice that Max isn’t in his room soon.”

“All the more reason for us to leave, then, I think,” Clay said.

“What are you going to do with that bastard?” Jacob jerked his head at the still-unconscious Max.

“Nothing too drastic,” Clay said, making ‘calm down’ gestures. “I’m guessing you want your own shot at justice?”

Jacob nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. An oddly warm feeling filled Carlos’ chest, Jacob wanted to help, he cared. Maybe he wasn’t quite such an ass after all.

“All right, I’ve got an idea. Everybody ready to get out of this dump?”

Carlos and Jacob nodded in quick agreement. Clay’s teeth flashed as he smiled again, then he clapped his hands and the cellar vanished.

***

Pooch yelped and nearly jumped out of his skin as the four of them appeared out of thin air, right next to him. Clasping a hand over his heart, he glared at Jacob and snapped, “Don’t do that. You nearly killed me!”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Pooch, you’re the master of overstatement, you’re in no more danger of a heart attack than I am. Unless you’ve been at my father’s wine cellar and cigar store without telling me?”

Pooch flushed and looked away while Clay said interestedly, “Cigars?”

“Can we get on with things?” Carlos said, impatience biting at him. Long experience had taught him giving Max even a hint of leeway could result in chaos. Standing around talking now wasn’t going to help. “Can you do whatever it is you’re going to do and let us get out of here?”

“Impatient, I told you,” Roque muttered in Clay’s direction. “Kids these days...”

Clay laughed, then stretched out his shoulders. “Everybody stand back, you don’t want to get caught in this spell.”

“What’s it do?” Jacob asked excitedly, backing up a few steps and treading on Carlos’ foot. “Oh, sorry. You all right?”

Carlos nodded, the warm feeling was back in his chest again and words were a little beyond him.

“Just a simple time suspension thing,” Clay said, his eyes on the farmhouse.

“What about Cook and the other servants and the animals?” Carlos asked, alarm smothering the warm fuzziness.

“Collateral damage,” Clay replied. As he turned his head, Carlos could see that his normally dark eyes were glowing bright green. “Don’t worry, I’m not hurting anyone, they’ll just stay exactly where they are till we come back for ‘em. They’ll be asleep for a while, that’s all.”

Carlos nodded, “All right. But Max, Henry and Adam are the only bad ones, everyone else in there is nice.”

“Magic ain’t always picky who it works on, kid,” Clay replied and focused his attention on the house. “Roque, a little help here?”

Roque moved to stand beside him, his eyes took on the same greenish glow and a moment later the farmhouse and stable yard was enveloped in a sparkling green bubble.

“Wow, that’s...really noticeable.” Pooch cocked his head to one side and stared. “You just gonna leave it like that?”

“He always this critical?” Clay frowned at Jacob.

“Try having him tell you off for your fashion sense,” Jacob replied. “It’s a humiliating experience.”

Pooch opened his mouth to argue, but Carlos managed to speak first. “Sorry to butt in but can we get out of here? Don’t we have things to do? Like going to see your parents?”

Jacob screwed up his face like a child who is doing his best to avoid bedtime. “I guess. Do we have to? Can’t we just run away or something? I could live in the country, I’d get used to it. I can chop wood and get water and you can do the hunting, being the best shot in the kingdom and all. We’d be fine.”

It was very tempting. The idea of running as far as they could and just living in peaceful anonymity was a beautiful one.

“No,” Carlos said regretfully. “You’re a prince, the whole kingdom needs you, not just me.” The warm happiness in his chest was evaporating with every word but he pressed on bravely. “Let’s go see your parents and explain why you can’t get married. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“You haven’t met my mother,” Jacob said miserably. “She’s got her teeth sunk into the idea of having this stupid ball.”

“Well, I guess the pair of you will have to look adorable and puppyish and convince her that you’re just meant to be, won’t you?” Clay said with an unholy amount of enthusiasm. “You all set to go?”

“Are you gonna do that thing where we vanish and reappear somewhere else again?” Pooch looked dubious.

Clay nodded, grinning wickedly.

“I want a raise.” Pooch glared at Jacob. “Definitely. A big raise. I should not be having to do this just so you can get some with your boy toy.” He glanced at Carlos. “No offence.”

“None taken,” Carlos assured him, he completely understood the other man’s unwillingness to be zapped from one place to another.

“I can’t send you all the way into the castle,” Clay said, cricking his neck and stretching out his fingers. “Those damn protection spells will probably kill you if you hit them with magic around you. I’ll send you as close as I can.”

“Or we could just get the horses and ride back,” Pooch said hopefully.

Carlos was about to agree but the world dissolved around him before he had a chance to speak.  
When they hit solid ground, Pooch promptly fell over again and swore angrily before narrowing his eyes at Jacob. “Don’t ask me to ever do that again. You want to do that, you go find one of the stable boys or a guard, they’re all a little nuts for excitement. Where are we?”

“About a mile outside the castle I think,” Jacob replied helpfully.

Dusting himself off, Pooch stood. “Well, I’m gonna go get a drink. Hopefully there aren’t any crazy fairies in the kitchen. Um,” his face softened, “good luck. I hope the Queen listens to you about the ball and everything.”

“Me, too,” Jacob replied.

Carlos just nodded. The idea of speaking to the Queen in person was robbing him of speech. Fear had already closed a cold hand around his heart and was squeezing tighter every second.

“Say hello to Jolene for us,” Jacob called after Pooch as he stomped off.

Pooch waved and chuckled before breaking into a jog. Obviously he was very keen to get that drink.

“All right, time to face the music,” Jacob muttered. “You ready?”

“No,” Carlos said.

“Me neither,” Jacob admitted, which did nothing to ease Carlos’ nerves. “Maybe we’d better go get cleaned up first. Mother always takes dirty clothes as a personal insult.”

Looking down at himself in alarm, Carlos saw ripped breeches, a smudged and dirty shirt and a threadbare coat which was well past its best. “She’ll hate me,” he moaned softly. “She’ll throw me in a cell as soon as she sees me.”

“No, she won’t,” Jacob said, ineffectively brushing at a patch of dirt on Carlos’ shoulder. “And if she does, I’ll come get you.” His fingers lingered near Carlos’s neck. “I’ll always come get you.”

Carlos couldn’t think of a reply.


	13. Chapter 13

If he’d felt like an uneducated farmboy before, when he saw Jacob’s suite of rooms, Carlos knew he was well and truly out of his depth. He was walking around with his mouth open, staring at the painted walls and ceilings with amazed fascination, he knew it, but couldn’t do a thing about it.

Jacob strode past frolicking cherubs and beautiful shepherdesses with unrealistically well behaved flocks of sheep, not even bothering to look at them. Carlos trailed in his wake, wondering how people slept in rooms which were themselves a work of art. He’d forever be awake, staring at the paintings, trying to see the minute brushstrokes and find every nuance the artists had poured into their work.

It wasn’t until Jacob flung open a pair of gilded doors and stepped aside with an exaggerated flourish, that Carlos realized they’d reached his bedroom. He was about to go into a prince’s bedroom. What was he thinking? Was he even allowed to be there? Wasn’t there some kind of rule which said commoners should never set foot upon such hallowed territory?

“Am I going to get in trouble for this?” he blurted, worry making his stomach bubble uncomfortably.

Jacob smiled. “I’m the one who bought you in, so no, you’re not going to get in trouble. Although there are probably rumors flying around the castle already as to who you are.”

The guards at the gate had been inordinately interested in him, Carlos remembered. Maybe that was just to be expected when walking beside the heir to the throne. Jacob had insisted he be alongside him, not a few steps behind like a servant would have been. That had probably kickstarted the rumor-mill.

“Here,” Jacob tossed a shirt and a clean pair of dark blue breeches at him. Carlos caught them, once again glad for good reaction times. “They might be a bit big on you, but at least they’re clean.”

The shirt slid through Carlos’ fingers like the finest silk, even though he knew it was only linen, it was by far and away the most luxurious thing he’d ever worn. The breeches were velvet and plush and beautifully made. He tugged them on and looked up to see Jacob watching him.

“What? Am I doing something wrong?” Was he exposing his country bumpkin roots already? Did he have his pants on backwards? Carlos closed his eyes and cursed Max anew for never bothering to send him a proper school.

“No,” Jacob smiled and crossed the small gap between them. “You look...really good.”

For a moment they simply stood and looked at one another. Carlos stopped breathing.

“I never meant to deceive you,” Jacob whispered, leaning in close. “I should’ve told you about the ball thing when we first...I mean, when we...”

“I know what you mean,” Carlos broke in. “And yes, you should have told me what your family had planned.”

“I was worried,” Jacob inched closer. “Thought if I told you everything you might not be so keen to see me. And I wanted to see you, you have no idea how much I wanted to.”

Carlos bit his lip. Would he have allowed himself to become quite so infatuated if he’d known all along that Jacob would be required to marry someone else? One look at the earnest blue eyes boring into his own gave him his answer. Of course he would have. Trying to avoid loving Jacob was like trying to avoid breathing, it was simply impossible.

“Forgive me?” Jacob was so close now a sheet of parchment couldn’t have been slipped between the two of them. The heat from his skin was intoxicating. Carlos smiled.

“As long as you tell your parents what to do with their wedding plans.”

Jacob rolled his eyes and stepped away. “We have alone time and you go and ruin it.”

With a quick laugh, Carlos hauled him back in and kissed him soundly. “There. Now, are we presentable?”

“Hold on,” Jacob turned and rummaged in a drawer. “Here, tie your hair back.” He held out a black ribbon. “Mother loves men with long hair, she’ll fall for you in a second.”

Carlos took the ribbon and tied his hair neatly back, then stared at himself in the long mirror on Jacob’s wall.

Jacob smiled and slid an arm around his waist before pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “You clean up nice.”

“Hope your mother thinks so,” Carlos managed to say, although his heart was in his throat. He was going to meet the queen. What was he thinking? He was nothing, a nobody and he was going to ask the queen to let him have her son.

“Stop it,” Jacob said firmly, pulling him round so they faced each other.

“Stop what?” Carlos snapped, nerves making him irritable.

“Thinking,” Jacob twisted a hand into the soft hair at the back of Carlos’ neck and tugged slightly. “You’re just as good as anyone else here. Believe it.”

“That an order?” Carlos gasped as Jacob pulled his head back a little and laid a line of hot kisses down his neck.

“No,” Jacob breathed against Carlos’ skin. “Just the truth.”

Carlos stuttered out an unsteady laugh. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”

With a longing look on his face, Jacob released him and stepped back. He looked ruefully down at his breeches. “Damn.”

Carlos was suffering the same way, pants suddenly far too tight, but the thought of seeing the queen made all the blood rush back to his head. Rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth, he wondered unhappily exactly what the penalty was for offending a queen.

***

Queen Valentina’s chambers were just as grand as Jacob’s. Carlos wished he could just sink into the floor and vanish. Only Jacob’s hand at the small of his back kept him from turning tail and running.

“Relax,” Jacob kept whispering. “Everything will be fine, trust me.”

Carlos tried to smile but the muscles of his face didn’t seem to be up to the job. Where was Clay and his fairy magic when he needed it? If ever there was a time to disappear in a puff of smoke, this was probably it.

Jacob moved in front of him, shot him another of those dazzling smiles and pushed a heavy, gilded door open. Carlos followed, feeling as though he were about to lay his own head on the executioner’s block with the axe already in the air.

“Mother?” Jacob called. “Are you in here?”

“Here,” a clear voice came from the corner of the room. A slim woman appeared from behind a stack of dresses which would probably have sent Bernice into a joy and envy-induced coma. Placing her hands on her hips, she fixed Jacob with a glare. “Well, it’s about time you came to apologize for running off like that. I heard you were back, the guards are worse gossips than any of my ladies. What were you thinking, just leaving that way? Anything could have happened to you and we’d have had no way of finding you.”

Jacob looked down at the tiled floor, biting at his lip. Carlos followed suit, not daring to meet the queen’s eyes until he was expressly told to do so.

“Sorry,” Jacob muttered. “Didn’t meant to make you worry. I needed to find Carlos, and look, I did.” He pointed at Carlos and grinned hopefully.

Leave out the part about the fairy godfathers, Carlos silently begged him. I don’t want a queen thinking I’m bringing dangerous magic into her castle.

As her flinty grey eyes swept over him, he stooped into the best bow he could manage, hoping he didn’t look too clumsy and ridiculous.

“So this is the oft-talked about Carlos, eh?” her voice was as cool as her eyes. “You managed to track him down.”

Carlos kept his gaze firmly on the queen’s embroidered shoes, but heard Jacob say happily, “Yep, I did.”

“Well, he’s handsome, I’ll give you that,” Valentina said, a trace of amusement creeping into her tone. “Why is he here?”

If he hadn’t been shaking with fear, Carlos might have found it in him to be annoyed at the way she talked about him as though he weren’t there, but as it was, he gave no thought to it.

“We’re here to tell you that I’m not marrying anyone,” Jacob said sharply. A smile pulled at Carlos’ mouth, at least one of them wasn’t too intimidated to speak plainly. “I want Carlos and here he is, so you can give up all those stupid ideas of me picking a wife at that damn ball.”

There was silence for a moment, then a small hand pulled Carlos’ chin up. The queen looked straight into his eyes, assessing and calculating. “Very handsome, but are you worthy of a match with my son?”

Was he supposed to answer? Carlos forced himself to swallow, when did his throat get so dry? A sudden spark of rebellion flared deep within him, he was as good as anyone else, Jacob said so, so it must be true. “Yes, your Majesty,” he said firmly. “I am.”

She laughed softly and let go of his chin. “Fiery too, just like Jacob.” She glanced at her son. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in me pointing out that this will cause a great deal of uproar with the families of the girls we’ve invited to the ball? They’re all positively quivering with excitement at the idea of marrying into the royal family. They’ll feel terribly cheated to have that chance ripped away from them.”

Jacob growled quietly. “You honestly think I care?”

“No,” she sighed. “I very much doubt you do.” She shook her head, “Love is an awkward thing. Wonderful for those involved in it, but something of a pain in the proverbial for those on the outside.”

“I want Carlos,” Jacob said stubbornly.

“And you?” Valentina speared Carlos with that fierce gaze again. “Do you want my son? If we somehow manage to arrange something between you, there’s no going back. It’ll be forever.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Carlos said, trying to keep his voice even. “Forever will do.” He felt rather than saw Jacob’s smile, it soothed his jangling nerves a little.

Valentina pursed her painted lips and folded her arms. “You do realize, both of you, what a complete, forgive the pun, royal mess this is going to cause?” She rolled her eyes, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “What is your father going to say? What in the name of all the fairies are we going to do about an heir?” She glanced at Jacob. “Are you absolutely, completely, irrevocably certain that you don’t want someone else, someone possibly female?”

“Yes.” Jacob said it before she’d even finished speaking, making her smile. “Mother, please, just...have I ever asked for anything else? Please, just let me have this, please.”

The queen looked cynical, “You’ve been asking for things since you learned to talk.” She ran a hand down Jacob’s cheek. “But this is...huge.”

“Yeah, well,” Jacob looked sheepishly down at the floor. “I never do things in a small way, do I?”

“No, you don’t,” she laughed. “Carlos, are you entirely ready to deal with the human whirlwind which is my son? He’s something of a handful, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Carlos felt himself smile, which was a little odd because he was still almost shaking with fear at seeing the queen up close and personal. “Yes, your Majesty, I think I can handle it.”

“Hello?” Jacob waved a hand, “Still here, you know. Stop talking about me as though I’m not in the room.”

“Shush,” Carlos chided him automatically. “We’re talking with you, not about you, fool.” He realized what he’d said and flushed with hot embarrassment.

Valentina threw her head back and laughed until the room rang. “Oh, that’s perfect! Jacob, angel, you picked someone who can keep you in line. That’s just such perfect poetic justice...I’m sorry, I have to sit down...” She collapsed into a nearby chair, holding her sides as she continued laughing. After a few minutes, she sobbed to a halt and wiped her streaming eyes on her skirt. “I’m all right now.”

“I’m glad you find this amusing, Mother.” Jacob’s voice was acidic but he smiled.

“I know, I know,” the queen hiccupped. “I think I’m a little hysterical. Just think of the chaos this will cause when people hear...” She shook her head and stood up. “All right, no time to waste, let’s go and get this mess sorted out.”

Carlos looked at Jacob, eyebrows raised. Jacob grimaced.

“We’re going to see Father? Now?”

“Yes, we are.” Valentina replied grimly. “I hope he’s already having a bad day because this is about to ruin it for him.” She patted Carlos’ arm. “No offence, dear.”

Carlos tried to say, ‘none taken’ but all that came out of his mouth was a mortifying squeaking noise.

“Don’t worry,” she smiled gently. “We get that all the time. You’ll get used to us. Just remember, we’re people like everyone else. We pull our breeches on one leg at a time and we drool in our sleep. In Jacob’s case we also spend a ridiculous amount of time making our hair look good and hog any mirror within grasping distance.”

“Mother,” Jacob hissed as Carlos grinned.

“I’m allowed to embarrass you,” Valentina said airily. “I gave birth to you, I get to enjoy this now, those are the rules.”

“Wish somebody had told me,” Jacob muttered as they followed her out of the room. “I would’ve divorced you and Father years ago if I’d known ritual humiliation was part of the deal of being your son.”

“Sticks and stones, darling,” she said over her shoulder. “Now, get ready. We’re off to see the king.”

***

“I hate this.” Roque kicked at a clump of grass and glared moodily in the direction of the castle. “Waiting is not my thing.”

“Relax,” Clay said calmly. He was leaning up against Max’s kitchen wall, enjoying the late morning sun. “Find some zen or something.”

Roque rolled his eyes and stomped off to stare at Max some more. Why he found the sight of a frozen-in-time human so fascinating, Clay wasn’t quite sure, but didn’t feel the need to ask about it. A man was allowed some peculiarities, after all. He sighed, the sun was warm on his skin, being in the human world really wasn’t too awful sometimes. Granted they were inside the bubble which encompassed Max’s farm, but still. It had been the most logical place to wait for Jacob and Carlos, the spell hid it from human eyes, so they were in no danger of being seen.

Clay let his wings flutter free and groaned in enjoyment as the stretch continued down into his back. Keeping them hidden gave him cramp sometimes, maybe it was just another byproduct of being four hundred years old. He let his eyes slide shut and flirted with the idea of a nap. Just then, something flared in his mind. Was that...no, couldn’t be...unless the council had sent other fairies on jobs here as well...that definitely was magic, being used not too far away. His eyes snapped open, what was that?

Over the years, he’d acquired a sensitive nose as far as magic was concerned. Different spells had different scents. Right now the overpowering smell of roses and jasmine hit him with enough force to make him giddy. A love spell? Who in their right mind would be concocting a love spell? They were dangerous and temperamental and banned by the Fae Council for corrupting free will.

Try as he might, Clay couldn’t quite pin down the direction the spell was coming from. His enjoyment for the sunshine vanished. This was probably not a good development.

***

The potion spat and crackled. Great hissing bubbles rose from the shimmering surface of the cauldron, only to burst a second later in tiny showers of rainbow sparks.

Aisha smiled, it was almost ready and about time too. The ball was coming up and the only way she could get Prince Jacob to immediately choose her as his wife was to dose him with this, the strongest love spell she’d ever made. She’d tried on her best dress and knew it became her wonderfully, but a girl needed all the help she could get. Leaving things to chance was a recipe for disaster.

She breathed in the heady scent of pure love and more than a hint of animal lust. A broad smile spread over her face. The prince wouldn’t stand a chance.

***

“All right,” Queen Valentina fussed over Jacob, straightening his collar and smoothing his shirt. “There, you look decent. Oh, Carlos, here, let me...”

She spun him around and re-tied the ribbon in his hair, pulling all the stray strands back away from his face. He shot Jacob a startled look. Jacob grinned and shrugged. Just go with it. Carlos nodded and received a smack on his shoulder.

“Stay still, I’m making you look good.”

Carlos froze, barely daring to breathe as she continued fussing with his hair. Cool fingers skimmed the back of his neck, it had been a long time since a woman had touched him like that, peremptory, efficient...motherly? A wave of longing for his own mother crashed over him, swamping the defences he’d built up over the years. What would she think of him now? Would she think he’d grown into a good man? Would she say that this was utter folly? Would she like Jacob? Of course she would, everyone liked Jacob. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, in for three heartbeats, out for three.

“Carlos?” Jacob’s voice was low and close. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Carlos croaked. “Fine. Just...thinking.”

“Don’t do that, dear,” the queen said softly. “Sometimes thinking is the path to ruin. There.” She patted his hair one last time and stepped away. Carlos turned and saw her smiling at him. He attempted a smile back.

“You’re very handsome,” she said, straightening her skirts. “Jacob’s a lucky lad.”

Puffing out a deep breath, she turned and marched toward the immense door which led to the king’s daytime chamber. “Come on, I’m not doing this on my own.”

***

Carlos fully expected to the thrown into the closest dungeon and left to rot. What was he thinking? He was standing in front of the king, listening to the queen explain why she was giving him and Jacob her blessing.

“Just look at them, Edward. They’re adorable. Jacob’s...I don’t even know how to describe it, he looks...happy?”

“At the moment I’d say he looks like he’s swallowed a fly, either that or he’s constipated,” King Edward replied, frowning at his son.

Carlos felt hysterical laughter bubbling up inside him and frantically squashed it. Was he allowed to laugh? Was a king supposed to be funny? What were the rules, damn it?!

“Father,” Jacob growled. “Could we try to take this seriously?”

“Oh, I’m taking it seriously,” King Edward said, his tone more wrathful. “I’m just desperately trying to find some humor in the situation before I have some kind of breakdown.”

He rested an elbow on the armrest of his ornately carved chair and dropped his head into his hand. “What are you...I mean, do you try to cause chaos...why couldn’t I get an obedient son? Life would be so much more simple that way.”

“Simple is boring, dear,” Valentina said sharply.

“Simple would not be giving me an ulcer,” Edward replied. “Simple would not be my son telling me he’s found the love of his life and oh by the way, it’s another boy. Not that I mind in any way that you’re a boy,” he looked at Carlos almost apologetically. “Let’s face it, in an ideal world, we’d all be free to love and marry whomever we want, but sadly it doesn’t always turn out that way.”

“Yes, yes, we know, princely responsibilites, heir the the throne needs an heir, we know it all,” Jacob rubbed his eyes wearily. “But I’m not going to that stupid ball and picking a girl to marry. I’ll abdicate if I have to.”

“Now, Jacob, don’t be hasty...” Valentina said, as King Edward spluttered wordlessly.

“I mean it,” Jacob said, anger starting to color his tone. “Every damn word. I’ll abdicate and you’ll be left with no-one at all if you don’t let Carlos and I...well, be Carlos and I.”

Carlos thought perhaps he reeled back a step or two in shock. They’d talked about it, Jacob had mentioned running away and just living out their lives in hiding as it were, but so actually hear the word ‘abdicate’ come out of his mouth was something of a...was it a blow? A relief?

He blinked quickly, his thoughts were getting scrambled and words were tumbling over themselves in his mind. He loves me, by the fairies, he really does love me. He’d give up his throne for me? He’d give up his throne for me. Am I good enough? Do I deserve that? What could I possibly give him in return which would equal abdicating from an entire kingdom?

Dimly, he heard someome calling his name. With a jolt, he came back to himself and found all three members of the royal family staring at him.

“Sorry,” he said, having to clear his throat to make his voice work properly. “I was...um...”

“Thinking about exactly what it is you’re doing.” King Edward smiled ruefully. “Big, isn’t it?”

Carlos nodded.

Edward looked at him steadily for a moment, then frowned. “Would you by any chance be the owner of that little pony Jacob bought here months ago? The one which had been badly treated by an idiot with spurs?”

“He wasn’t a pony, Father,” Jacob protested. “He was a horse, just not a very large one.”

“Firefly,” Carlos smiled as he thought of his faithful friend. Was he currently frozen in time too? He hoped so, poor thing might be scared otherwise.

King Edward smiled again, his eyes crinkling in the same way Jacob’s did. “I thought, even back then, that Jacob had a strange look in his eye when he told me about the boy who owned the little thing. I thought it was just another crush, evidently I was wrong.”

The queen laughed quietly. “Dear, sometimes you notice far too much.”

“I’m a king,” Edward grinned at his wife. “It’s my job to notice things.” He turned back to Carlos, his eyes suddenly glittering. “Who hurt your horse?”

“One of my stepbrothers,” Carlos replied instantly, not caring at all that he was dropping Henry into trouble.

“Hmm,” King Edward ran a hand over his neatly trimmed beard. “I think I’ll be having a little chat with that young man about the use of spurs.”

Carlos wasn’t sure whether to dance with joy or quiver with fear for what he’d just done. If he’d thrown Henry to the wolves, he’d effectively thrown Adam and Max along with him. Max wouldn’t take kindly to that. But, then again, he was currently frozen, so what harm could he do? Giddy joy flooded through him as he realized that for the first time in his life, he was actually free from Max’s long reach.

“Forgive me for mentioning,” Queen Valentina said, inspecting her nails carelessly, “but haven’t we gone sightly off-topic here?”

“What?” Edward blinked at her owlishly. “Have we?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, dear. Your son wants to be with Carlos. I think that’s the priority at the moment.”

“Oh, yes, right, sorry,” Edward flushed slightly. Carlos shot a sideways glance at Jacob whose cheeks were the same faint shade of pink. He looked down at the floor to hide his smile.

Edward sighed loudly. “Jacob, is anything I say going to sway you from the belief that Carlos is the one you really, genuinely want?”

“I doubt it,” Jacob replied. “In case you didn’t notice, I’ve already run away in order to find him once, when nobody else gave a damn whether he was alive or dead. If that’s not proof enough for you, well, I can think of things that would prove how much I want him but I don’t think they’re really for public viewing.”

Carlos felt his own cheeks heat up. When would he get used to the fact that Jacob tended to say what he thought, whether it was outrageous or not?

King Edward raised an eyebrow at his son, then rolled his eyes at his wife as she chuckled. “You’re both sadly lacking in filters between your brains and mouths. Carlos, I hope you’re ready for a lifetime for trying to deflect the backlash from these two saying something inappropriate at the wrong time. The fairies know, I could use some help at it.”

The queen and Jacob had the good grace to both look a little embarrassed. Carlos allowed himself a tiny smile and bobbed his head at the king, still too intimidated to actually speak.

“This is going to cause a lot of anger, you know, Jacob,” Edward went on. “People are going to be confused when their prince doesn’t choose a wife. The girls at the ball will be distraught.”

“Why?” Jacob demanded. “Just because they won’t have a chance to jump up the social ladder and get enough servants to see to their every whim? It’s not as though any of them know me, I won’t be abandoning them after stringing them along or anything. If they can’t deal with that, well, tough.”

“Tough,” the king echoed, then rubbed his eyes. “I think we need to work on your diplomacy.”

“But in the meantime, me and Carlos...” Jacob bounced on the balls of his feet, his eyes beginning to shine again. “Are we all right?”

King Edward looked between them, Carlos kept his chin up and met his gaze even though every instinct screamed at him to back away and hide in a corner. Beside him, Jacob vibrated like a hunting dog waiting for a bird to be shot from the sky, eager to retrive it for its waiting master.

“Does he make you happy?” Edward’s sharp eyes were fixed on Jacob.

Jacob nodded enthusiastically.

“And you, Carlos, you know exactly what it is you’re letting yourself in for? And you’re doing it all of your own free will? This is what you genuinely want?”

“It is, sir,” Carlos said, proud of himself for forming real actual words and marveling that he could apparently change the very course of his life with three of them.

Edward smiled tiredly and nodded. “All right, yes, fine, blessing bestowed and all that nonsense. But...” he held up a stern finger, “you two had better make the most of this because I’ll be dealing with angry parents for months to come. Enjoy it, or else.”

“Yes, sir,” Carlos clumsily bowed while Jacob nodded beside him.

“Don’t worry, Father, we won’t mess this up. To be honest, you’re gonna love Carlos, he’s far cleverer than me and he talks less and he’s an amazing hunter, the best with a bow I’ve ever seen and this is going to be great, it really is, just wait and see.” Jacob was bouncing up and down again, caught up in his own enthusiasm.

“If you’re not much of a talker, Carlos, you can move in right now and I’ll bless you every time you don’t wake me in the wee hours of the morning to discuss which would be better, a flying horse or an invisible carriage.” The king grinned at them both fondly.

“I did that once,” Jacob hissed. “And I was about eight years old at the time, let it go, would you?”

“Letting it go,” Edward agreed amiably. “Now get out of my throne room and go and celebrate the fact you got what you wanted.”

Jacob smiled, the dazzling one which still did something squirmy and very nice to Carlos’ stomach. “All right, we’re going. Sorry to have messed up the ball and everything, but, we couldn’t really help it. I think there’s a possibility that Carlos and I are just meant to be.”

He winked at Carlos as he spoke, Carlos tried not to smile. Clay had said they were meant to be together, but he doubted the king would appreciate knowing there were fairy godfathers running around unchecked in his kingdom.

Straightening his jacket, Jacob bowed deeply to the king and queen, tugging Carlos down with him. “Right, well, we’ll be going now.”

“Oh, that’s right, mess up our plans then scurry off with your undeniably very attractive boyfriend.” The queen’s words were harsh but the smile on her face and twinkle in her eye was pure Jacob.

“We can still have the ball, can’t we?” Jacob said. “It’d be a shame to let all the food go to waste.”

Carlos nudged him, honestly, when would he stop thinking with his stomach?

Jacob grinned wildly. “Everyone’s getting ready for a party and call me biased but I’d say Carlos and I deserve one.”

Edward gazed steadily at his son, tugging at his beard. “Oh, all right. Have the damn ball. But I’m not dancing.”

“Yes, you are,” Valentina chuckled. “You’re the king, you will dance with me or there will be dire consequences.” She waggled her eyebrows. “In the royal bedchamber, if you know what I mean.”

Jacob grimaced and grabbed Carlos’ hand. “They’re talking about things parents should never talk about. Quick, let’s escape before they do serious damage to our delicate sensibilities.”

Allowing himself to be towed out of the room, Carlos heard the queen mutter, “Delicate sensibilites, my ass.”

A slightly hysterical laugh forced its way out of his chest. They’d done it, they were allowed to be together. The enormity of the situation hit him and he slowed to a walk, forcing Jacob to stop dragging him along at the double.

“What?” Jacob demanded. “We need to get to my room, our room, right now.”

Carlos bent and rested his hands on his knees, trying to suck in enough air and failing.

“Carlos?” Jacob kneeled and peered into his eyes. “What’s wrong?” His face crumbled. “Is this...was I wrong? I thought you wanted this...are you...oh, shit, are you changing your mind?”

“No,” Carlos grasped desperately at Jacob’s shirt, pulling him close. “No, not changing anything. Just a bit...that was scary, damn it.”

“You’re scared of my parents?”

“No,” Carlos grinned weakly. “I’m terrified of the king and queen, though.”

“Ah, I see your point,” Jacob nodded. “But, we came, we saw, we somehow managed to conquer. So yay us and can we go find somewhere with a fairly stable horizontal surface now, please?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Carlos smiled and allowed Jacob to grab his hand again.


	14. Chapter 14

Much later, when they’d celebrated in as many ways as they could physically manage, Carlos flopped limply back onto Jacob’s soft sheets. Then a thought wandered into his short-circuiting brain. “

Wha’ ‘bout Clay?”

“Huh?” Jacob was face down on a pillow, somehow managing to breathe with his nose shoved into goose down.

“Clay,” Carlos flapped a hand weakly, “fairy guy, remember? We gotta tell him things are all right now.” His mind began to sharpen as his post-cotial haze lessened. “An’ we need to do something about Max.”

Jacob groaned and shoved his head deeper into the pillow. “Don’t wanna. Wanna stay here some more.”

“Can’t just leave Clay out at the farm,” Carlos said, sitting up and looking around. Where were his underthings? He spied his breeches hanging from a doorknob not too far away. They’d do. He crossed to them and tugged them on. “He might have other jobs to do, might need to get back to...wherever it is they come from.”

“Carlos the thoughtful, ever mindful of others,” Jacob dragged his head from the pillow and grinned. “All right, let me get dressed.”

“Come on,” Carlos slapped the backs of Jacob’s legs. “You’re not moving.”

“Slave driver.”

“Lazy.”

“Prince.”

Carlos stopped, stymied for a reply. If Jacob was a prince, what exactly was he now? Prince consort? Or just the fellow filling the real prince’s bed?

“What?” Jacob stood, looking worried.

“Nothing,” Carlos quickly shook his head. It wasn’t important. He threw Jacob a shirt. “Here, get dressed.”

***

The ride out to the farm was pleasant enough but when they actually approached the building itself an eerie, deathly silence fell over absolutely everything. The bubble of magic still sealed the farm off from the rest of the world and even the birds seemed to be staying well away from it.

“Clay?” Carlos called softly, “You still here?”

To his surprise, Clay and Roque walked out of the farmhouse.

“Well, come on in,” Clay called, beckoning impatiently. “We don’t have all day.”

Throwing Jacob a glance, Carlos steeled his nerves and walked through the shimmering green veil. It felt vaguely like walking in a shower of cool rain but when he looked down at himself, his clothes were bone dry.

“Weird,” Jacob muttered beside him. Carlos nodded.

“So?” Clay asked. “How did it go?”

Carlos locked eyes with Jacob again, Jacob grinned and shoved his shoulder a little. So it was all right for him to tell the story, then.

“It went fine,” he said. “All sorted out now.”

“That’s it?” Jacob cried. “By the fairies, you are a terrible storyteller.”

“What?” Carlos asked, “It’s the truth, I told it.”

“Let me do it,” Jacob shushed him and turned to the two fairies. “Um, yeah, it’s kind of like he said, everything’s all right now.”

Carlos smacked his arm. Jacob grinned ruefully, “So you did a decent job and covered everything I needed to say in like, seven words. How am I supposed to top that?”

“Children,” Clay rumbled, a grin on his face. “When you’re done pulling each other’s pigtails, let me know.”

“How does anyone put up with humans?” Roque muttered. “They’re a waste of time.”

“Funny, though,” Clay countered. Roque grunted in acknowledgement.

“Fine,” Carlos said loudly, crossing his arms. “We went to see the queen, she approved, she took us to see the king, he approves. There’s still going to be a ball and that’s about it.”

“Still going to be a ball,” Clay echoed, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Are we allowed to crash?” Roque asked, suddenly interested.

Jacob looked at Carlos with a hint of worry in his eyes. Carlos shrugged. If the two godfathers wanted to go to the ball, who was he to argue?

“It’s being held in the castle, isn’t it?” Clay said, spearing Jacob with a look.

“Um, no, I don’t think so,” Jacob replied slowly, as though wondering if he was doing the right thing by telling Clay anything. “I think it’s usually held in a villa a few miles from the castle, tradition as far as I know. The old kings didn’t want people snooping around their home while they were downstairs dancing the night away, so they moved all big royal banquets and things to the Fountain Villa.”

The smile on Clay’s face was pure evil. “Roque, you’re ready for a party, aren’t you?”

“If there’s wine or mead or some kind of alcohol, you wouldn’t believe how ready I am,” Roque replied, not missing a beat.

“That’s settled then,” Clay said happily, rubbing his hands together, Carlos stepped back from the inevitable shower of red speaks which ensued. “We’ll be there, this villa place shouldn’t be under the protection of the spells which coat the castle. I hope not, anyway. That’d ruin my evening.”

“Wha...what are you...did we....I don’t think we meant to...” Jacob spluttered incoherently.

Carlos knew what he meant, inviting the two fairies to the ball hadn’t exactly been the plan. Damn Clay for being an opportunist.

He cleared his throat loudly, drawing Clay’s attention. “What are we going to do about Max and Henry and Adam? I can’t just leave ‘em here, there are good people asleep in this house too, we have to wake them up.”

“Quite the little hellcat now, aren’t you?” Clay sounded amused.

Carlos felt his cheeks heat up a little and lifted his chin to compensate. “Either way, what do we do about this place?”

Clay shrugged fluidly. “We take the spell off and leave you to deal with Max and your stepbrothers.”

Carlos glared, that seemed like a very raw deal. Clay smiled again.

“Or, we stick around and help you deal with those bastards. In return you get us on the ball guestlist.”

“Couldn’t you just magic your names on there?” Jacob frowned.

“Of course,” Roque replied, “but it’s more fun to watch you scramble to do it.”

“At times I don’t think I like you very much,” Jacob eyed the big godfather narrowly.

Roque smiled, utterly unconcerned.

“All right, it’s a deal,” Carlos said quickly, eager to stop a fight before it started. Jacob had that frustrated look on his face which meant he was wondering whether a prince could get away with punching a fairy godfather. He leaned in and muttered into Jacob’s ear, “He’d chew you up and spit you out as corned beef. Don’t be dumb.”

Jacob breathed hard but nodded. “True.”

“So,” Clay whirled around and stared at the farmhouse, looming eerily silent and still. “Time for the boys and girls to wake up?”

“Hold on,” Carlos cried, “what do we do with Max when he’s awake?”

“What do you want to do with him?” Clay blinked, waiting for Carlos’ reply.

Carlos wrinkled his nose. “I’d like to kill him but I think that’d make me as bad as him, wouldn’t it?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Clay agreed cheerfully.

“Turn him into a slug?” Jacob ventured hopefully.

“Or take him to your father and let him pay for everything he’s done over the years,” Carlos said softly. “I’m not the only one he hurt. I’ll bet if we go through his office we’ll find paperwork for a lot of dodgy deals. Should be enough to get him thrown into prison for a while. Probably Henry and Adam too, they must have been in on what he was up to.”

“Very righteous of you,” Clay nodded, looking like he approved.

“I preferred the slug idea,” Roque muttered, scratching his ass.

Jacob shot a pleased glance at Carlos, who rolled his eyes.

“Will everyone wake up at once?” Carlos asked, his gaze on Clay again. It was bizarrely warm inside the bubble, sweat began to bead his forehead and trickle slowly down his back.

“Not unless you want them to,” Clay replied, flexing his fingers again and showing no sign of being affected by the heat. “You want to talk to Max first?”

Carlos nodded. Just to see the look on Max’s face when he realized all his plans had failed, that would almost make up for the mistreatments of the past nearly-eighteen years. Almost. A few more well-placed kicks might help, too. He glanced at Jacob.

“Oh, yeah, I’m coming too.” Jacob’s grin was not exactly pleasant. “I’ve got things to say to that bastard as well.”

The warm feeling blossoming in his chest wasn’t one Carlos was familiar with. _I’m not alone anymore._ That was a foreign thought but a very welcome one. _Whatever I do, I think Jacob will back me up. We’re a team._ Carlos found himself smiling happily and hastily coughed, rearranging his face into a more severe expression.

Clay shook his head and said, “Feels good, doesn’t it? That’s what Roque and I were sent here to do. Now you understand why we stuck around?”

Carlos nodded. “I think so. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Clay snapped his fingers and pale blue stars hung around them for a minute. “You see? Happy charge equals happy godfather.”

“That’s both sweet and slightly terrifying,” Jacob put in. “Can we wake Max now? If we’re going to take him to see my father, we need to do it before dinner. He gets crabby if I interrupt the main course.”

“You’d make a good fairy,” Clay eyed Jacob seriously. “You’d annoy the proverbial out of me and I think Roque might kill you but I reckon you’d get results on jobs like this one.”

“Thank you,” Jacob said. “I think.”

Carlos snorted with uncontrollable laughter, then held out both hands as everyone looked at him. “Sorry. Just thought of you with wings.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “I think I’d look regal and elegant.”

“I think you’d look like an idiot,” Roque sniggered.

“Says the fairy with pink wings,” Jacob snapped.

Roque growled and stepped forward, one large hand curled into a fist. Clay moved in front of him, a loud bang resonated flatly in the still air within the green bubble. Roque flew a few feet through the air and landed painfully on his back, gasping like a stranded fish.

“Don’t do that,” Clay said mildly. “Godfathers aren’t allowed to punch their targets. It’s rude and unprofessional.” He turned to Jacob. “And you, don’t tease him or next time I won’t stop him.”

Carlos watched Jacob’s jaw work as he tried to bite back the inevitable insults and smart comments which would even now be dancing on his tongue.

He’d never admit it, but Clay was, well, pretty impressive. Even without the magic, he had an aura of someone who knew what it was like to have his ordered followed to the letter. It might not be too much of a stretch of the imagination to say that Carlos kind of liked him. Or maybe he was just desperate for a father figure who was completely different to Max.

“When you’re all done,” he said out loud, trying to pitch his voice in the lazy but commanding tone Clay tended to use, “can we get Max awake and kick his ass all the way to the castle dungeons?”

Clay shot him an amused glance which held a trace of respect. “Your wish is my command and all that crap. Come on.”

***

Inside the farmhouse it was even more eerie than outside. Even the mice which perpetually scurried behind the wooden walls were silent. There was no smell of cooking from the kitchen and no yelling from Henry and Adam as they fought over who got the first cupcake from each batch out of the oven.

As they walked through the kitchen toward the trapdoor which led to the cellar, Carlos felt Jacob’s warmth pressing into his back. At least he wasn’t the only one to be slightly freaked out by this, then. That was a comfort.

Max was where they’d left him, but no longer twitched, trying to escape from nightmares only he could see. Now he looked like he was carved from stone, his fingers clawing into the packed dirt floor, his spine taut with fear.

Carlos shuddered. What was it like to be trapped within a perpetual nightmare? The truth hit him and he couldn’t help a rueful smile. He’d been trapped in a nightmare since his mother had died. Max was the big bad wolf. Until now he’d been the defenseless little pig, but finally that was changing.

“Wake him up,” he ordered Clay, staring at Max intently. “Just him, leave everyone else for a while.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Clay muttered and snapped his fingers.

Max sprang abruptly to life, sitting up with an incoherent yell, his eyes wild and haunted. He saw Carlos and scrambled back to press himself against the wall.

A savage glee swept through Carlos, he was allowed to enjoy this, wasn’t he?

“Hi, Max,” he said, keeping his voice low and menacing. “How’re you feeling?”

“You,” Max panted, his gaze flickering from Carlos to Jacob and then the two fairies. “What’s...where...what did...you...little bastard...ruined everything. Kill you...little runt...” he flung himself forward with a snarl but Carlos easily sidestepped his questing hands.

With an icy anger he’d never known he possessed, Carlos wrapped a hand around Max’s throat and slammed him back against the wall, tightening his fingers just for the joy of seeing panic flare in his stepfather’s eyes.

“Shut up. I don’t care what you think of me. You don’t get to hurt me anymore. That time’s passed. I’m in charge now. You are a pathetic, evil, vicious little worm of a man who likes to see others suffer.” He squeezed tighter, gratified to hear Max gasp for breath. “You won’t hurt anyone ever again. Jacob?”

“Yep,” Jacob instantly said behind him.

“Get this piece of shit into a wagon and take him to your father. I’ll go through his study and get all the evidence we need to make sure he never sees daylight again.”

“Willingly,” Jacob said. As he brushed past to grab at Max’s still bound hands, he breathed in Carlos’ ear, “I like this all new ‘don’t mess with me’ Carlos. You can bring him to bed later.”

Carlos grinned. “I’ll do that.”

“Come on, you miserable bastard,” Jacob hauled Max to his feet and dragged him toward the steps. “There’s a nice cozy prison cell waiting for you. I’ll pick it out myself.”

Their footsteps thundered overhead, small dustclouds shaken loose from the floorboards above settled on Carlos’ shoulders and hair, prematurely aging him.

He pushed a hand through his hair and turned to look at Clay. “Well? Was that what I was supposed to do? Have you finished your job now?”

Clay looked at him steadily for a minute, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You know, I think we have,” he said eventually. “You don’t make things easy on yourself, do you? You could have just been grateful to see your prince in the first place and run sobbing into his arms, that would have saved a lot of heartache on your side and work on our part.”

“Run sobbing into his arms...” Carlos echoed, them made a face. “Yuck.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Roque said, sounding bored. “If we’re done, can we go now?”

“Not yet,” Clay frowned. “There’s still...something a little off. I can smell it.”

“What?” Carlos asked, looking around himself and thinking of decomposing bodies.

“Magic,” Clay replied, surprising him.

“Magic?” Carlos and Roque said at the same time.

Clay nodded. “I can smell the stuff from miles away. I don’t know where it’s coming from but I got a whiff of a love spell earlier.”

“They’re illegal, aren’t they?” Roque said, standing a little straighter and flexing his shoulders.

“Extremely,” Clay agreed. “But the smell of jasmine and roses was nearly enough to knock me out, whoever’s cooking it up ain’t doing a half-assed job of it.” He wrinkled his nose. “I hate jasmine. Reminds me of a dryad I dated two hundred years ago, she doused herself in the stuff.”

“Please don’t tell me,” Roque groaned, “I don’t want to hear about your sexploits.”

Clay ignored him and shot Carlos a wicked smile. “She was the most flexible thing I’ve ever seen and game for anything to boot. Always smelled of leaf mold though, she was a tree nymph after all, so she covered herself in jasmine perfume to hide it.” His face clouded. “She went a little nuts after I slept with her sister. Tried to convince her tree to spear me but it refused. There are times when I’ve been glad trees are peaceful folk.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows, unsure as to how to reply. This may not have been the most bizarre conversation he’d ever heard, but it was definitely in the top three.

“Spare us,” Roque growled. “You’ll scare the kid out of jumping his prince and after all the rigmarole of getting them together, I think it’s only fair someone gets some action, don’t you?”

Shooting Roque a grateful glance, Carlos cleared his throat and said, “So, do you think this magic’s been done closeby? Is it trouble? For us, I mean?”

“Can’t tell,” Clay shook his head regretfully. “We could hunt it down but it’d take a long time and more resources than we have at our disposal. Hopefully it was just blowing this way on the breeze and is actually a long way off.”

“Hopefully,” Carlos echoed, then screwed up his face. The leaden feeling in his stomach had no logical reason to be there but it was suddenly weighing him down like a rock dragging a man beneath the surface of a raging river.

“Relax,” Clay clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve got your prince, you get to go to a ball and live happily ever after. Be happy, that’s an order.”

“We’re allowed to order humans to do things?” Roque perked up instantly. “I like that.”

“Technically, no,” Clay replied. “But it was worth a shot.”

“Hey!” Carlos said sharply, still fighting a rising tide of worry. “What do we do about this love spell? Can we find out who it’s intended for? Can we destroy it?”

“Like I just said, no, we can’t find out anything about it,” Clay frowned. “Not without a lot of effort and a lot of reinforcements, we’d have to search the kingdom mile by mile, there’s no real way to narrow it down.” Carlos gave him a skeptical look, he scratched his ear. “Yeah, I know, we have magic too, we should be able to do something but the sad fact of the matter is, magic is tricky. Any spell we cast to locate the love one might veer off and find something else entirely. Or it might hit the love spell head on and explode. Or it might just alert the caster of the love spell to our presence, which is generally a bad thing. So, we wait and watch and try to figure out whether we need to call the Fae council and let them know what’s going on.”

“Are we supposed to do that anyway?” Roque asked. “Seeing as it’s an illegal spell that’s being made?”

Clay snorted. “If godfathers reported every time they came across someone doing some dodgy magic, the old buggers would never have time to sit down and decide on more missions for us. Humans think magic’s gone from this world but they couldn’t be more wrong.” His sharp gaze settled on Carlos again. “But nobody needs to know about the level of magic in operation, do they? Godfathers work undercover. If people knew about us, they’d badger us constantly and we’ll never get any real work done.”

Carlos nodded, “I understand. Now, can we go hunt through Max’s study and find something to give King Edward a reason to throw him in jail for the rest of his life?”

“Sure,” Clay stood aside. “Sounds like a fun day out.”

“Can’t we just turn him into the horse’s ass he really is?” Roque muttered as Carlos led the way out of the cellar.

“Don’t worry,” Clay replied. “Sometimes humans are more fiendish than even we are when it comes to punishments.”

Carlos gritted his teeth and silently hoped that was true.

***

“Well, well, Max,” King Edward leaned back in his chair and puffed out his cheeks. “I’d say you’ve been a very naughty man. Just how many people have you swindled out of their homes? Look at this, you paid less than a quarter of the price this piece of land is worth. I knew the old couple who owned that, Megan used to be one of Jacob’s nannies. Her husband Rossi was one of the hardest working people I ever saw. They’re both dead now, died within a few weeks of each other, broken hearted, so I heard. They both wished they’d never sold out to you. But they didn’t really have a choice, did they? You always get what you want, isn’t that the way it works?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes hard and cold.

Papers and notebooks and ledgers littered the table before Edward, each of them filled with Max’s neat handwriting, detailing transactions and deals over the past decade or so. Max glowered at the king, Carlos glared daggers at Max, Jacob watched Carlos.

“What?” The king steepled his fingers. “Nothing to say for yourself? I’d have thought a man who is clearly as sneaky and underhanded as you would have had a defense thought out years ago, ready to use in just such an occasion as this. You’re not going to attempt to shift the blame onto anyone else? Throw someone else to the wolves? One of your two equally unpleasant sons perhaps?”

Max shot a hate-filled glance at Carlos. Pissed that the king already knew about Adam and Henry, Jacob supposed. Carlos tilted his chin up defiantly and looked Max dead in the eyes. Jacob smiled a little, that fire was one of the most attractive things about him. But would he be willing to see the king throw the book at his stepfather? Or would the streak of gallantry running through him demand that he try to save Max from too harsh a fate, for fear that would lower him to the older man’s level?

Jacob’s teeth ached, he was grinding them again. Quickly relaxing his jaw, he knew he’d have absolutely no trouble in throwing Max, Henry and Adam into the deepest dungeon the castle possessed and forgetting all about them. Judging by the furious expression on his father’s face as he scoured the ledgers, Kind Edward was feeling much the same way.

All three of them jumped as the king suddenly slammed the cover down on a particularly thick accounts book. Max, to give him his due, looked more angry than scared. From past experience, Jacob knew he should be terrified, Edward had the calm, glacial mask on which meant he was struggling to contain some very strong emotions.

“You are a very calculating man, Max.” Edward spoke quietly, but each word was clear. “I don’t pretend to understand all the deals and swindles you managed to get away with over the years, but I imagine my own book-keepers will. You’ve made a lot of honest people very unhappy. You’ve taken land which was worth a mint of money and paid a pittance for it after using threats of violence and general coercion which does not become a family man. It’s no wonder your own sons are scum, they have so little to aspire to, with you as a role model.”

“In my defense, your Majesty,” Max ground out, “I must say that these books have been brought to you by an ungrateful, spiteful boy who has done nothing but wish me harm since the day his mother departed this realm.” He sent another glare at Carlos who narrowed his own eyes in return. “They are false, all of them. He wishes to ruin me and he’s using your son as a way to achieve that aim.”

“Liar!” Carlos snarled and darted forward so quickly, Jacob only just managed to grab his arm and keep him from flinging himself onto Max.

“Let me go,” Carlos panted, twisting and squirming against Jacob’s grip. “He’s a liar, I didn’t fake those books, let me go, damn it!”

“Calm down, Carlos,” King Edward said soothingly. “I’m sure you didn’t fake any of this. And as for using Jacob, well, hopefully he’d be clever enough to realize if you were doing that.”

He glanced at Jacob, who nodded. Of course Carlos hadn’t been using him, Max was an idiot to have tried to go down that route. Carlos stopped fighting and relaxed into Jacob’s hands, breathing hard. Patting him on the back seemed like too much contact and not enough, all at the same time. Touching Carlos was a little like a drug, the more Jacob got to do it, the more he wanted. But right now Carlos was vibrating like a tuning fork, so Jacob settled for resting a hand between his shoulderblades. The warmth on his palm made tiny prickles of sweat break out inside Jacob’s elbows, he really had it bad if a simple touch was enough to make him want to drag Carlos somewhere private and kiss his angry frown away.

“You’re a dangerous, calculating, heartless man,” King Edward said, looking at Max again. “If I had only these books to go on, I’d still be tempted to throw you into a cell and leave you there to rot. But we also have Carlos’ testimony as to how he’s been treated while he’s been supposedly under your care.”

Edward shook his head slightly, his mouth white and pinched with fury. “You, sir, are a disgrace to the name of fathers everywhere. I hope in years to come, you learn to regret what you’ve done.” He waved a hand at one of the guards waiting by the door. “Take him away and make sure his sons aren’t put into a cell with him. Keep them apart.”

Max’s glare was enough to melt stone as the guard wrapped a large hand around his arm and tugged him out of the room. Carlos weathered it bravely, his own mouth pressed into a thin line which really didn’t suit him. Real hatred didn’t often hit Jacob but at that moment, looking at Carlos’ face, he genuinely hated Max.

“That enough?” Edward asked, also looking at Carlos. “I can do anything I want with the three of them, up to and including death but I don’t want to do anything you’d regret in the future.”

His father was trying to be thoughtful and kind to the boy who’d probably caused him more headaches than anyone else since Jacob himself had been born. Jacob chewed at his lower lip, actually quite moved. Maybe this thing between he and Carlos could work after all, if the king was willing to treat him as one of the family, hopefully others could accept it too.

“It’s enough,” Carlos said.

“You sure?” Jacob blurted. “They made your life a misery and took land off of so many other people...is leaving them down in the cells punishment enough?”

Carlos smiled, an unpleasant smile which did nothing for his good looks. “I’m sure. It’ll do for now, maybe they can learn what it’s like to be locked in with no guarantee as to when they’ll get back out. At least they’ll get fed, which is probably more than they deserve.”

“But the streak of chivalry in you wouldn’t let them starve,” Jacob chuckled softly. “You’re too nice for your own good.”

“Knights should be chivalrous,” King Edward put in. “Not that many of them are, maybe Carlos can teach them a thing or two.”

Carlos’ eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “What?” He flushed as he obviously remembered who he was talking to. “Sorry, your Majesty, um, I don’t think I understand...”

“Relax,” Edward laughed. “You’re practically family, you don’t have to bow and scrape. Although...” he eyed Jacob pointedly, “some people could learn a little about how to treat a king. Respect, deference and suchlike...”

Jacob grimaced in mock horror. “Oh please, you don’t expect me to be all obsequious, do you? Come on, Father, you do know me.”

“Yes, yes, I do,” Edward smiled fondly at them both. “Anyway, back to what I was saying, knights are supposed to be chivalrous and Carlos here is definitely that.”

Understanding began to dawn in Jacob’s mind. “You’re going to knight Carlos?” He smiled. “Fantastic.”

“Yes, I thought so, too,” Edward grinned, self-satisfaction making his eyes glow. “It might make the whole idea of you and he being together a little more socially acceptable and let’s face it, he can’t just lounge around the castle and look pretty for the rest of his life, he needs a purpose.”

Carlos looked a little dazed, Jacob couldn’t blame him. Going from a farmboy to a full-blown knight of the realm was something that only happened in stories, nobody actually experienced it for real.

“You all right?” Jacob asked, touching his elbow lightly.

“Huh?” Carlos turned to him, panic in his gaze. “Um. I don’t know?”

“Hey, calm down,” Jacob gripped his arm more firmly. “It’s only a knighthood, it’s nothing to get worried about.”

“Right,” Carlos nodded breathlessly. “Um. Does that mean I have to go on quests and fight dragons and things?”

Jacob and the king both laughed, the sound boomed around the small room, filling it sudden merriment. Carlos’s cheeks grew pinker.

“Sorry,” Jacob hiccupped to a halt, swallowing his laughs in case Carlos thought they were laughing at his inexperience. “Not laughing at you, promise. It’s just a standing joke. All knights dream of going on quests, they’re forever in here, asking Father to send them somewhere to do something heroic which will guarantee them free drinks for life and a different girl in their beds every night. But there’s never anything for them to do, beyond protect the kingdom and train in readiness for an attack from outside our borders.”

“Oh.” Carlos looked slightly relived. “That’s good, I suppose. Not getting eaten by dragons is good, isn’t it?”

“I’d say so,” Edward agreed cheerfully. “But like Jacob says, being a knight isn’t much more dangerous than being a castle guard. I can make you one of those, if you’d prefer, but I thought Carlos, Knight of the Realm, might sound a little grander when we announce your, er, togetherness, at the ball.”

“Grand is good, too,” Carlos smiled.

Jacob frowned, it wasn’t Carlos’ usual smile, there was a tightness around his eyes which meant he was forcing it.

“All right,” he clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly. “Are we all done here? I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Carlos and Edward said together. Carlos laughed and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.

“Go,” Edward made shooing gestures at them, then massaged his temples. “Let me call the book keepers and see if they can make head or tail of these things.” He poked moodily at one of the ledgers. “Sometimes being king is boring and banal. I think I’d prefer it if there were dragons to fight and wicked witches everywhere I look.”

Carlos and Jacob shared a look. _Should we tell him?_ Jacob shook his head almost imperceptibly, trusting Carlos to see it. Being king and wanting adventure was one thing, being king and knowing there were fairies running unchecked around one’s kingdom was something else.

“We’ll just be going, now.” Jacob flashed a smile at his father and herded Carlos out of the room.

***

“What’s wrong?” Jacob demanded as soon as they were back in his chambers.

Carlos cut his eyes away from that piercing blue gaze and stared at the drapes. “Nothing.”

“You don’t want to be a knight.” Damn, why was Jacob perceptive when Carlos would really prefer him to be clueless?

“Don’t know what you mean.” Did he sound sullen? Yes, maybe a little. Oops.

“Yes, you do.”

Jacob was suddenly right in front of him, staring down at him intently. It was vaguely annoying to be a few inches shorter but now wasn’t the time to curse the vagaries of fate and growth. At least he won as far as the hair stakes went.

“You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be,” Jacob spoke softly, his eyes earnest. “What do _you_ want?”

“I don’t know!” Carlos cried, suddenly incandescently angry at everyone and everything for no particular reason. “I just...I don’t know.” Flopping onto the bed and hiding his face in his hands seemed overly melodramatic but it felt good.

The mattress dipped as Jacob sat down next to him. “Sorry. Father gets a little carried away sometimes. He’s trying to be nice and I guess he thought giving you a knighthood would smooth things with the people whose noses are going to be put out of joint when they learn about us.”

“I know,” Carlos said, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Somehow, the castle walls felt like more of a prison than the cellar at the farm ever had. At least there he’d known there was a way out, it was only a matter of time before someone came to release him. Here, he was stuck in the middle of a game to which he had only the very vaguest of ideas of the rules. And the game would go on forever. But Jacob would be with him, so that eased things, didn’t it? Yes, that definitely made things better.

“I don’t deserve it,” he found himself muttering.

“What?” Jacob leaned closer, their heads almost touching in an attempt to hear Carlos.

“Don’t deserve to be a knight.” The words hurt as they left his tongue, reality was a bitter pill to swallow. “’M just a farmboy. I’m nobody. Don’t deserve to be somebody important.”

“Stop it.” Carlos looked up as Jacob slid to his knees in front of him. “You’re important, all right? You’ve always been important, you just didn’t know it.” Taking a big breath, Jacob said in a rush, “You’re important to me. I...that is...I don’t think...I don’t want to do anything unless you’re around. You make things better.”

Carlos smiled shakily, feeling more like a damsel in distress than ever. “Thanks. But everyone else will just see me as the guy the prince sleeps with. They’ll know I only got a knighthood because of you. They’ll hate me for it.”

“Most of ‘em will probably hate you for sleeping with me in the first place,” Jacob said, his habitual frankness all the more cutting for the fact he was right. “You’ll be taking the place a lot of girls probably think is theirs by right. You won’t be universally popular, but then, neither am I. Nobody is. And if the other knights don’t think you deserve your knighthood, well, show ‘em that you do. You’re more knightly than most of those armored posers anyway. You can hunt, you’re awesome with a bow, I can teach you to use a sword, you’re clever, quick-witted, funny...”

“Being funny is a requirement for being a knight?”

“Well, no, but it helps.” Jacob grinned up at him. “Trust me?”

The panic squirming inside him didn’t want to calm down but a few deep breaths helped. “Yeah, I trust you. It’s me I’m worried about. Don’t want to disappoint people.” _And make a fool of myself._

Jacob squeezed his thighs, his hands warm and big. “Forget about them, nobody else matters. Just you and me, right?”

Carlos nodded. Just him and Jacob. He could do that. That was easy. Maybe castle life just took a little getting used to. The knowledge that Max, Henry and Adam were buried far beneath him in dark cells would take longer to be comfortable in his head, but that was what he’d wanted for as long as he could remember, wasn’t it? Yes, but again, reality was different to dreams. Harsher and more painful.

“Stop thinking about them,” Jacob said.

“That obvious, huh?” Carlos smiled ruefully.

Jacob shrugged, “I’d be thinking about ‘em, too. If they’d plagued me for the past who knows how long. I imagine it’ll take a while to adjust.”

“I don’t feel sorry for them,” Carlos said fiercely, unsure who he was trying to convince, himself or Jacob. “They deserve it, they hurt more people than just me. But...” he looked down at his hands, “I don’t know.”

Silence fell for a moment, uncharacteristically, Carlos broke it first. “I don’t want to be like Max.”

“You’re not...” Jacob instantly said, but stopped as Carlos poked him.

“Let me finish. I don’t want to be like him and take some kind of pleasure in the fact other people are suffering.”

Carlos cringed as he spoke. Even though he was only with Jacob, talking so freely felt like exposing far too much of his soft underbelly, leaving him vulnerable and open to attack. But the words continued as though someone had opened a floodgate.

“I don’t want what he said to be true. He said I was using you, I’m not, I never was. But people will think I am and I don’t want it to become reality. What if one day you look back and wonder if you should have never bothered with me? What if I turn into Max? Power does things to people, I know, I’ve seen it. What if I’m a bad man? What if...”

Whatever he was about to say was lost as Jacob silenced him by kissing him soundly. Carlos clung to him like a drowning man clutching a piece of flotsam in a raging storm.

“You’re not Max,” Jacob smiled when he finally let Carlos breathe. “And you’re not using me or brainwashing me or taking advantage of me. Whatever happens, good or bad, will be because we both want it, you understand? And you’re not a bad man, you’re one of the best I’ve ever known.”

“In all your seventeen years,” Carlos scoffed, although his throat was uncomfortably tight.

“Hey, I’ll be eighteen before you,” Jacob grinned. “You can be my boy toy.”

Carlos snorted. “Oh, please.”

Jacob’s fingers crept higher up Carlos’ thighs. “No,” he said softly, “never just a toy.”

Carlos intended to reply but lost his words as Jacob unlaced his breeches and leaned forward to nibble hot kisses onto his hips.


	15. Chapter 15

Time raced forward in the odd, galloping way it does when a person would really like it to slow down and meander for a while. Carlos found himself seeing more of the king and queen than he would ever have imagined in a dozen lifetimes.

“What do you think,” Queen Valentina whirled around and pinned him with a stare. “Ice blue silk for the buffet tablecloths or seafoam green?”

Carlos gaped and floundered for a moment before remembering that he could in fact make a conscious decision and he was only being asked about color schemes. “Um, blue?” he replied hesitantly.

“Good choice,” Valentina nodded. “It’ll bring out the color of Jacob’s eyes and it won’t do you any harm either. You’ll both look wonderful.” She scribbled a note, presumably ordering the tablecloths and handed it to a messenger waiting near the door. Carlos half envied the man his easy escape.

“Now,” she looked him up and down, her hands on her hips. “What can you wear?”

“Wear?” Carlos repeated, mentally slapping himself for sounding so very dumb. “Uh, clothes?”

“Yes, dear,” the queen said patiently. “But we might need something more specific to tell the tailors than ‘make Carlos clothes’.”

“I don’t need anything made specially for me,” Carlos protested, with the sinking feeling that he was already fighting a losing battle. “I can wear anything, nobody’s going to look at me when Jacob’s around.”

Valentina smiled gently and took his arm, guiding him down into a chair. She sank down next to him in a floaty cloud of satin thinner than parchment. “Carlos, darling. I know you think you’re nothing special, and that is to be commended, humility is a trait that’s somewhat lacking around here. But the sad fact is, soon you’re going to be one of the most looked-at people in the kingdom.”

Carlos stared up at the ornately carved ceiling, she was right, he knew it, but it still wasn’t an easy thought to accept. She followed his gaze, leaning back to lounge in her chair.

“This villa was built almost a thousand years ago.” She spoke softly, her voice as hypnotic as Jacob’s when he was sleepy and warm and pressed close to Carlos’ side.

“I don’t know who built it, or why, or when the old kings decided to take it for their own. But it’s been royal ever since. Its seen so many royal birthday balls, so much dancing and gaiety. Doubtless there’s been a murder or two and more than a few secret trysts here. But buildings keep secrets better than anything else. Walls don’t talk. Tell me, Carlos, do you really want to do this?” She rested her elbows on her knees and stared at him intently.

Carlos went on looking at the cherubs on the ceiling. Damn them, they were so carefree. “I want Jacob,” he said huskily.

“Yes, I believe you do,” Valentina smiled and took his hand. “But unfortunately having Jacob means also putting up with the pile of everything else which comes with royal men. Trust me, I know of what I speak.”

He glanced at her, of course, he’d somehow forgotten that she’d married the king, she hadn’t been born queen. “Did you meet the king here?”

“No, I already knew him before his birthday ball. Which was why nobody was surprised when he chose me to be his wife. It was simultaneously the best and worst moment of my life.”

“Worst?”

“Nobody is ever prepared for the shock of suddenly being a member of the royal family. People watch you and copy you and judge you for absolutely everything you say or do.” She looked rueful. “Perhaps I should have taught Jacob to be a little more circumspect but he’s always been such a free spirit and it seemed a shame to curb that. He says what he thinks and I fear one day it will get him into trouble.”

“I’ll look after him,” Carlos instantly said, his blood beginning to boil at the thought of anyone disapproving of Jacob.

Valentina smiled. “You know, I rather think you will. I think you might be just what this family, and this kingdom, needs. A breath of fresh air.”

“Farmyard air,” Carlos muttered before he could stop himself.

A small hand grasped his chin and pulled his face around. He tried to look away from the queen’s stern gaze but she only gripped him harder.

“Now, look. You’re not royal by birth, I know that, we all know that. Have you heard any of us making comments about it? No. I for one couldn’t care less where you come from or who your family is. You’re the man my son loves and that is really all that matters. I’ve seen his face when he’s with you. You make him happy. He makes you happy, you don’t hide it as well as you think. So for the love of the fairies, stop whining about being less than the rest of us and man up a little.”

Despite his shock, Carlos smiled. “Now I see where Jacob gets his temper from.”

Valentina grinned and let go of him. “Yes, well, we all have limits, don’t we? I personally can’t stand hearing people whinge. So stop it.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Carlos bobbed his head in a tiny bow.

Valentina smacked his shoulder. “Sarcastic.”

“I try,” Carlos smiled back.

They sat for a few moments, the silence easier than before.

“Do you intend to accept the knighthood my husband so desperately wants to give you?” Valentina looked slyly at him beneath lowered lashes.

Carlos screwed up his face and picked at his nails.

“Carlos?” the queen pushed his hands apart and stared into his eyes.

“I don’t know.” He seemed to have been saying that a lot recently, but it was true. Everything was suddenly a lot more complicated and his decision making skills had deserted him. Life whirled around him most of the time, like being on a child’s roundabout, unable to step off, the world blurring into one large splash of color over which he had absolutely no control. “Jacob says I can do whatever I want.”

“And he’s right.” Valentina raised her eyebrows. “What _do_ you want to do?”

Saying ‘I don’t know’ again was probably whinging, so Carlos shrugged instead.

“All right,” the queen crossed her legs primly. “Put it this way. Do you want to have a job to do while Jacob’s off doing king things? Or do you want to sit around in your chambers moping and trying to choose between yet another ride in the country or joining me for some embroidery practice?”

Ah, well, when she put it like that. “Knighthood might not be so bad.”

“At least you’ll get to play with swords,” she patted his knee comfortingly. “Although my embroidery groups can get quite riotous at times. You’ll be missing some good parties.”

Carlos tapped a fingernail against his teeth, mock-thoughtful. “Let me think, sword training or embroidery, sword training or embroidery...sorry, I think I might have to go for the swords.”

“Typical boy.” Valentina shook her head. “Always distracted by the shiny, pointy things.”

“Short attention span,” Carlos agreed, chuckling.

They laughed together for a moment, quiet and easy. Carlos scrambled to his feet as the queen stood, her skirts swirling around her.

“I’ll tell Edward you’ll accept the knighthood, then, shall I?”

“Um, yes.” Carlos wondered whether he’d been hustled into that decision, but whether he had or not, it felt good to have made it.

“Knight Carlos,” Valentina smiled. “Ooh, it sounds good.” She led the way out of the ballroom, leaving a faint scent of flowery perfume lingering behind her.

Carlos slowly followed. Was this what it was like to have a mother? Would his own have talked to him so freely and openly? Cracked jokes and laughed at his sarcasm? The familiar cold hand clutched at his heart as he thought about her but it was a little less chilling than before. Valentina wasn’t his mother and never would be, but she was a very good substitute.

***

“Kneel, Carlos.”

Carlos gulped and sank to his knees, acutely aware of dozens of pairs of eyes boring into his back, watching his every move. Knighthoods were private things, or at least so Jacob had told him. But apparently ‘private’ meant he still had to perform in front of all the other knights and the members of the king’s court.

“You’ll be fine,” Jacob had said, right before they went into the cavernous main hall. “Just try not to fall over and you’ll do better than Knight Castus, he almost skewered himself on Father’s sword. Knight Morillo was so drunk he could barely speak and Knight Jeremy giggled his way through the ceremony, I still don’t know what he smoked the night before. He never shared it, either, selfish bastard.”

Now, Carlos privately congratulated himself on not having fallen over on the interminable walk down the aisle toward the king. He wasn’t giggling and he certainly wasn’t drunk, although the idea had lots of merit. So far, so good.

“Do you, Carlos, free man of this land, swear to uphold the law as I set it forth, protect those in need of you and fight those who seek to disrupt the freedoms we hold dear?” King Edward looked down at him, his hands resting on the jewel encrusted hilt of the sword at his waist.

Carlos took a steadying breath and said clearly, “I do, Your Majesty.”

“A knight is sworn to be honorable, truthful, good. Do you swear to live by these rules?”

“I do, Your Majesty.”

“Do you swear to uphold the honor of this court, act in a manner becoming to your rank and never abuse the power you are about to receive?”

“I do, Your Majesty.” Carlos let himself breathe a little more easily, he’d gotten past the three questions, now all he had to do was hold still for a minute.

The sword hissed from its equally decorated scabbard. It was only a ceremonial blade, too cumbersome for real battle, but all the same, its edges were razor sharp and the whole thing shone wickedly as Carlos stared at it. His stomach dropped to his knees as the king raised the sword for the assembled company to see.

“Do you, knights of this land, accept Carlos as your brother?”

A rousing cheer followed Edward’s question. Carlos swallowed hard, winning the approval of the other knights was likely to be his most difficult task. But, so far, so good. They were allowed to actually refuse to accept newcomers into the brotherhood. The knights might be a bored rabble at times, but they wielded a certain amount of power and sway within the court. That power might come in useful one day, when Jacob was king and needed people he could trust around him.

The glittering blade descended toward Carlos’ right shoulder. He kept his eyes forward as it tapped him lightly, then skimmed over his head to repeat the movement on the left.

“Rise, then, Knight Carlos, and greet your brothers,” Edward smiled as Carlos scrambled up and turned to face the room. “Well done,” he whispered into Carlos’ ear. “Many haven’t made it to this stage without embarrassing themselves. Jacob’s proud.”

Jacob’s face was indeed glowing and his smile was twice as bright as the sword in the king’s hand. Carlos took another deep breath and tried to remember what it was he was supposed to do now.

Holding up both hands, he waited for the polite applause and occasional cheer to subside. “Knights, brothers, I pledge to fight alongside you, whatever enemy we face. My sword is yours, as is my life.”

The cheers became louder and more raucous. As far as Carlos could tell, nobody looked annoyed or put out to be welcoming a commoner into their ranks. Oh well, only time would tell.

Jacob put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, drawing more cheers from the men behind him. Carlos smiled, resisting the urge to wave at him. Knights were supposed to be dignified, weren’t they?

***

Dignified was the last word Carlos would ever use to describe the party after the ceremony. The knights had obviously spent a lot of time training their drinking arms to be as strong as possible. Several of them had already passed out, slumped over the wooden tables of the tavern, snoring contentedly.

The rest were carousing as though it were their last night on earth. Carlos backed himself into a corner and stood back to watch the shenanigans going on around him. A tall knight, he had no idea of the man’s name, slapped him on the shoulder and pressed another drink into his hand, ignoring the fact he was already holding one in the other.

“Well done!” the knight slurred. “I almost pissed myself with fear, day they knighted me. You did well.”

“Um, thank you,” Carlos offered but the man was already weaving off through the crowd, back to his friends.

Jacob appeared like a beacon of shining hope, shoving his way through the press of bodies, his broad shoulders cutting a path more easily than Carlos’ slimmer frame had. Wedging himself into the corner beside Carlos, he said, “How’re you holding up?”

“They’re trying to get me drunk,” Carlos replied, waving the two tankards around to emphasize his point.

“Not a bad idea,” Jacob grinned. “I think it’s tradition that a new knight gets absolutely stinking on his first night in the brotherhood.”

Carlos glanced around the room, somewhat alarmed at the idea of being drunk out of his mind and in the company of men who were already holding one of their number upside down so that he could leave a trail of dirty bootprints across the ceiling.

“There are other things to do tonight.”

Jacob’s lips brushed his ear and all the blood in his brain immediately rushed south. The smile on Jacob’s face was the one which promised many varied and dirty things once they were alone. “Shall we?”

Carlos dumped his drinks on the nearest table. “Let’s go.”

Hoots and catcalls followed them out of the tavern, obviously the other men knew exactly where they were going but for once, Carlos didn’t bother with shame. Jacob’s fingers were curled around his wrist and he had no thought for anything other than finding somewhere warm and private as soon as possible.

That somewhere turned out to be Jacob’s bedroom. It was easier than finding a private haystack or empty stable stall, Carlos had to admit. Comfier, too.

He let Jacob tumble him onto the cool sheets and sighed luxuriously as soft lips pressed kisses to his neck. Jacob didn’t seem to be in any rush, his usual determination to get Carlos naked as soon as possible seemed to have gone by the wayside. Carlos thought the beer was to blame, maybe it made Jacob lazy and mellow.

“Never done this with a knight,” Jacob murmured, framing his face with both hands and kissing him lushly.

“Good,” Carlos replied, proud of himself for having words when there was absolutely no blood in his brain.

Jacob chuckled, the sound vibrating against Carlos’ skin. “Just you, promise.”

He licked his way down Carlos’ throat again, sucking little marks here and there, nipping in places, swirling his tongue in others. Carlos threw what was left of his self control to the winds and tangled his fingers in Jacob’s hair, holding him close and trying not to shatter under the onslaught of that very talented mouth.

“You, too,” he managed to say when he stopped shivering as Jacob kissed him _right there_ , under his jaw, in the spot which always reduced him to goo.

“Me, too, what?” Jacob panted.

“You, too. Only you.” Carlos gasped as his tunic was shoved up over his head, tangling his hands in the smooth fabric.

Jacob made an inarticulate noise right before mouthing his way down Carlos’ chest. It wasn’t actually a word of any kind, but Carlos took it to mean he’d said the right thing. Pushing the tunic away, he reached for Jacob’s bright green shirt, dragging it up and out of the way.

Running his hands over Jacob’s broad back would never get old, he decided. Especially when Jacob convulsed and giggled helplessly as Carlos ghosted his fingertips over his ribs.

“Stop it,” he gasped, still laughing. “Being sexy here.”

“Sorry,” Carlos grinned, totally unrepentant. “Continue.”

He probably should have reacted more swiftly, but it had been a very long and tiring day. His hands were suddenly pulled up over his head and pinned to the mattress. Jacob leaned his weight forward, holding Carlos in place.

“Getting cocky are we?” he grinned, flicking out his tongue to trace the shell of Carlos’ ear.

“Well, I am a knight,” Carlos reminded him breathlessly. “Aren’t we meant to be cocky?”

“Yes, you are,” Jacob said, stealing another deep kiss. “My knight.”

Carlos swore his brain fizzed at the words. “Your knight.”

Another wordless moan from Jacob ended the conversation for a while.

***

Apparently being a knight didn’t make a whole lot of difference to Carlos’ everyday routine. Yes, he was required to attend sword training sessions and the occasional riding lesson but other than that, it wasn’t an onerous life at all.

He took to the sword with a skill which surprised everyone. Jacob often wandered down to the courtyard where the knights practiced and watched Carlos’ every move, handing out compliments and criticism in equal measure.

“Well, if you know so much, get in here and show me,” Carlos snapped one morning after listening to Jacob tell him his footwork was sloppy for the ninth time.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Jacob grinned, and ducked beneath the rope which cut the yard into sections.

Carlos briefly wondered whether he’d done the right thing. A hiss of surprise ran around the courtyard, obviously none of the other knights had ever challenged their prince to a fight. Well, hadn’t he earned the right to do things a little out of the norm? For some reason he couldn’t fathom, his mind suddenly slithered to Max, shut away deep beneath the castle, far away from the sunlight which currently warmed Carlos’ shoulders.

“Heads up.”

He blocked Jacob’s first thrust more through luck than judgment, staggering slightly as it knocked him off balance.

“Come on,” Jacob barked. “You can do better than that, find an opening, don’t let me dictate what happens. Find something to use against me.”

Forcing his mind away from Max wasn’t easy but the determined look on Jacob’s face demanded that he pay more attention to what he was doing.

Sweat ran down Carlos’ back as he circled Jacob, warily watching his eyes, hoping he’d see his next move plainly written there. But Jacob was cannier than he’d expected and those blue eyes were shuttered and impossible to read.

A few moments later Carlos found himself sprawled on his back, the wind knocked out of him, Jacob’s wooden sword tip pricking the tender skin at the base of his throat. It was an odd feeling, knowing that in another situation, that could very well be the last thing he ever felt. Disconcerting didn’t describe it. There and then Carlos decided he didn’t want to die any time soon.

“Footwork, knight,” Jacob grinned down at him. “If you’re not steady on your feet, you just make it easier for your opponent. Think about your feet as much as you think about your hands.” He moved the sword to tap the underside of Carlos’ chin. “Understand?”

Carlos glared up, trying to convey through his eyes alone that retribution would follow later.

Jacob clearly understood, for he laughed and moved away, holding out a hand to help Carlos to his feet. When he made it there, Jacob clapped a hand to his shoulder and shook him slightly.

“Keep training, you never know, I might need you to save my ass one day.”

The other knights respectfully bowed and muttered farewells as Jacob left the yard. Carlos watched him go with a mixture of admiration, annoyance and hope that he’d never be called upon to save Jacob from anything.

***

Max’s farm was oddly the same as when they’d left it. Chickens still pecked around the farmyard, there was still a comforting smell of cooking from the kitchen and smoke drifted lazily from the chimney.

“Making themselves at home, I see,” Jacob said wryly as he and Carlos dismounted their horses.

Carlos shrugged, who was he to say what two fairy godfathers should do? Clay had decided to stick around until after the ball and it had seemed only fair that they stay at the farm, given that they’d been instrumental in saving Carlos from a life of drudgery and misery.

The servants who hadn’t left as soon as Max, Henry and Adam were gone seemed happier than they had been in years. Certainly the farmhouse’s windows were cleaner and everything just looked...more cheerful? Carlos couldn’t account for it but maybe Max’ influence really had made things darker and more miserable.

In the living room, they found Clay. He’d procured a dart board from somewhere and was listlessly throwing darts at it while lounging in Max’s favorite over-stuffed chair. Roque was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, thank the Elders,” Clay said, tipping his head back to watch them upside down as they entered the room. “I was starting to think I’d die of boredom if you two didn’t show up soon.”

“Roque not entertaining enough for you?” Jacob asked.

“He’s not exactly the chatty type,” Clay said carefully. “But he does have sharp ears.”

“Scared of him?” Jacob grinned.

Clay gave him a look which made him cough and stare at his boots. Switching his attention to Carlos, Clay said, “So how’re you liking knighthood?”

“It’s fine,” Carlos replied. “I’m doing all right, I think.”

“He’s doing brilliantly,” Jacob put in, recovering his composure. “Best knight in the whole castle.”

Clay smirked. “Aww, sweet. You gonna polish his armor for him too? Draw little hearts on it before he goes into battle?”

Jacob glared, Clay smirked more.

“Anyway,” Carlos said quickly, anxious to divert them from another display of manly posturing. “We came to tell you that we got your names on the guest list for the ball.”

“Great,” Clay beamed. “I’m in sore need of a party. There will be women, right? Single women?” He looked at Jacob. “Lonely women, heartbroken after you tell them you’re already taken?”

“Yes, Clay, there will be women,” Jacob said, rolling his eyes. “Anyone would think you were desperate or something.”

“Not desperate. Eager,” Clay corrected him. “Eagerness goes a long way with women.”

“So does not calling them the wrong name when you’re in bed with ‘em,” Roque said, strolling into the room.

“That happened once and the girl looked a lot like the one I’d slept with the night before, give me a break,” Clay snapped.

“So, yeah, you can come to the ball,” Jacob said loudly, distracting the two fairies from the glaring match they were now having. “We thought we should come tell you. Do you have anything to wear?”

Clay switched his glare to Jacob. “Kid, we have magic. We’ll look better than you.”

“Wonderful,” Carlos said quickly, seeing Jacob’s face turn mulish. “We’ll see you there.”

He quickly hustled Jacob out of the house and back into the warm air of the farmyard. “That went well.”

Jacob glanced at him, then laughed. “I don’t know why but Clay can always rub me the wrong way.”

“I think he’s practiced doing that to people for the last few hundred years,” Carlos replied.

Striding across the cobbled yard, he went to Firefly’s stall. “Hey, buddy.” Firefly’s silky nose shot into his palm, snuffling and demanding treats. “Sorry, I don’t have anything.”

“Here.” Jacob held out an apple. “I figured the little guy would be here, so I thought he deserved something. He is the reason we met, after all.”

Carlos smiled, “Yeah, he is.”

Firefly crunched up the apple with obvious delight while Carlos scratched behind his ears. Jacob wandered away to look at the other horses, strolling around with his usual easy grace. Carlos buried his face in Firefly’s neck and breathed in the familiar smell of him. As fun as it was up at the castle, he’d missed just being able to pat his own horse with nobody demanding anything of him. Firefly nickered softly and nudged at Carlos’ pockets, looking for more food.

“Sorry, little one, that was the only apple,” Carlos apologized. “Would you like to come up to the castle? You can live in the stables there, I’m sure they’ve got room for you.” It would be like old times to have the little horse nearby. Why he was reminiscing for times he’d rather forget, he wasn’t sure, but Firefly had always been his friend and it seemed wrong to leave him behind.

So it was, when they remounted their horses and headed back to the castle, Firefly trotted cheerfully behind them.

They hadn’t gone more than a mile from the farm when a wagon came rattling into view. Carlos’ sharp eyes picked out the shape of the driver immediately and a hot rush of shame flooded through him. Bernice. Damn, how could he have forgotten all about her?

The sun was behind her, shining through her dark hair and burnishing it with the same gold it dusted Jacob with. She really was very beautiful, Carlos thought, then hated himself. Was that being unfaithful to Jacob?

Bernice drew the wagon to a halt beside them. Her little bobbed bow was mostly directed at Jacob but Carlos’ heart stuck in his throat as he realized some of it was for him. That wasn’t right, his friends shouldn’t be bowing to him. He opened his mouth to tell her she didn’t need to do that again but she beat him to it.

“Your Highness. Knight. It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too,” Jacob smiled. “We never really got a chance to apologize for waking you and disrupting your night with fairy godfathers, did we?”

Bernice rubbed her chin ruefully. “It was a bit unusual, I have to say. I’ve been trying to understand it ever since.”

“Sorry,” Carlos blurted. “For...you know...everything.” Hopefully she’d understand that ‘everything’ included being absent for so long and not getting in contact. He should have, he realized. Bernice had been his best friend for a long time and he’d just upped and left her with no explanation as to what was going on. She’d have heard about events up at the castle, of course, gossip flew faster than any swift but still, it wasn’t right that he hadn’t come to tell her himself.

“It’s all right,” she smiled gently at him. “I understand. You’ve been a busy boy, or so I hear. Getting yourself knighted, whatever would Max say to that? And Henry and Adam would be literally green with envy.”

“I know,” Carlos frowned, his thoughts once again going to a dark, windowless cell far below the castle.

“Hey,” Jacob poked him. “Don’t you go feeling guilty about them. They got what they deserved, nothing more.”

“Agreed,” Bernice said firmly, pursing her lips. “They’re bad people, they earned it. All the times I saw Max hurt you, I wanted to kill him myself. I’m sorry I never did more to help you.”

Carlos swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat and looked over Bernice’s shoulder at the rapidly sinking sun. “’S all right. Wasn’t your job to save me. You had enough to be dealing with, what with your family and all.”

She smiled again, more warmly this time. “Yes, they do take up a lot of time, don’t they? Speaking of which, I should get going. If I’m not home by dark, Mother starts to worry and Father gets crabby.”

“Come to the ball,” Carlos said all in a rush. “Please,” he added.

“What?” Bernice frowned. “I can’t, I’m not allowed. It’s for royals and gentry only, isn’t it?”

“Technically, it’s for whomever we want to invite,” Jacob said, glancing at Carlos and obviously thinking of the fact they’d just invited a pair of squabbling fairies to the party of the season.

“Right,” Carlos said, looking back at Bernice. “So...you’re invited.”

“Really?” Bernice’s smile was blinding even in the fading evening light. “Wow. That’s...I don’t know what to say...that’s very kind of you.” Her face fell slightly. “I don’t have anything to wear. Well, I have things to wear, but with you and all the fancy people in their silks and me in what I’ve got... anyone I dance with will be half of a lovely couple.”

“I’ll send the tailors out to you tomorrow,” Jacob said confidently. “They get bored of just making things for my mother, they’ll enjoy having someone else to dress.”

Bernice’s jaw dropped. “The queen’s dressmakers? Coming here to see me? Truly? Can you even do that?”

Jacob grinned. “I’m the prince, I can do whatever I want.”

Carlos was torn between smiling with him, because he really did have that much power, and being slightly put out that he couldn’t claim to be anything more than someone in the king’s employ. A knighthood was impressive but it didn’t hold as much clout as being a prince, did it?

“Hey,” Bernice’s voice dragged him back to reality. “What’s up with you, sour-puss?”

“What? Nothing,” he said defensively, annoyed at being caught daydreaming.

“Pull the other one,” Bernice said, narrowing her eyes. “What’s wrong? You had that look on your face.”

“Which look?” Carlos muttered sulkily.

“The one which says you’re put out about something and have no intention of telling anyone what it is until it’s festered inside you so much you think you’ll kill something if you don’t tell me all about it.” Bernice added a smirk to the end of her words. “I know you, remember?”

Carlos pressed his lips together mutinously while Jacob sniggered beside him.

“Come on,” Bernice coaxed, “you might as well tell me now as come and find me in a few weeks and pour your heart out in a totally embarrassing display of manly emotional constipation.”

Jacob laughed outright at that, slapping his thigh and wiping his eyes as tears of mirth leaked from them. “Oh, you know him so well, don’t you?”

“Hey,” Carlos snapped, “still here.”

“So you are,” Bernice agreed amicably. “So talk.”

He flicked a glance at Jacob, still grinning madly next to him. “I’m all right, really.”

“No you’re not.” Jacob went from amused to serious in a heartbeat. “You keep saying you are and you’re a good actor, most people think you’re having a great time. All the other knights do, I’ve heard them talking about it. They think you’re just enjoying yourself and why not? In your place, each of them would do the same. But you’re not happy and I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe telling Bernice might help?”

“I’m all right,” Carlos said again, wondering how many times he had to repeat it before people believed him. “I’m just...” he broke off, the queen had already told him off for thinking he was less than the rest of them. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m all right.” And he was. Kind of. He was a knight and he was good at it. Still didn’t alter the fact he came from nothing, though, did it?

Bernice snorted. “And that right there is the perfect lesson in denial. Men, honestly, you’re all useless.”

“Thanks for that,” Carlos said angrily. “Very helpful.”

The smile Bernice cast at him was infuriatingly understanding. “You know where I am when you need me.”

“Don’t you have a dress to worry about?” Carlos shot back. “Or should we take back the ball invitation?”

“Stop being a child, Carlos,” Bernice smiled, then looked at Jacob. “He gets like this when he’s hiding something. He’ll be fine once he talks about it.”

“Leaving now,” Carlos said, wheeling his horse around and staring in the direction of the castle. Home, he reminded himself, the castle was home now.

“All right.” Bernice sounded a little sad. Carlos instantly hated himself. “Do I still get to come to the ball? It’d be lovely to see you both dressed up. I bet you’ll look wonderful.”

“Of course you do,” Jacob said firmly. “I’ll send the dressmakers out to you tomorrow. If they don’t make the best dress you’ve ever had, I’ll have their heads.”

Bernice gasped a little, Carlos winced. Yes, Jacob was capable of ordering that, he never would, but still, he had that much power. He was born to this kind of life, ordering others around and expecting to be obeyed. Apparently it took more than a knighthood to make someone else learn how to be cope with it.

“Bye, Bernice,” he said, glancing back at her with what he hoped was an apologetic expression. “Say hello to your family for me?”

She nodded, looking understanding again. “Bye. Thank you.”

The ride back to the castle was a quiet one. Carlos felt like he should talk but somehow just couldn’t find words equal to the task. Jacob looked pensive and kept biting at his lip. By the time they reached the thick walls, Carlos felt ready to scream or hit something. When Jacob strode away, a deep frown furrowing his forehead, he turned on his heel and headed for the knight’s training yard. He needed to fight someone.


	16. Chapter 16

The smooth silk of her dress was like sex itself, Aisha decided. It flowed luxuriously through her hands, caressing her skin like a lover. A shiver flowed through her. Tonight was the night. She was going to become a queen. She smiled and looked up at the ceiling.

"For you, Mother."

Destiny was a wonderful thing, it had guided her all these years, given her ideas, helped her plan her route to the castle. Her unswerving belief that she was entitled to the throne would help her at the ball, she was sure of it. A measure of self-confidence made others relaxed and easy in one’s company.

She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes, she’d only get one chance at dousing the prince with the potion. Hopefully it would work instantly but to be on the safe side, she’d do it when they were introduced at the start of the evening. That way, if the spell needed time to mature, it would have it. The prince’s declaration would take place at the end of the ball, so the potion would have hours to work. Hopefully by the time Prince Jacob took to the dais to announce his new bride, he’d be so far under the spell, he’d willingly die for her.

Aisha laughed. Everything was going so perfectly.

***

"I’m gonna be sick."

Carlos looked anxiously at Jacob. Yes, he did look a little green. He searched their room quickly for a bucket or other receptacle. Pooch would have a heart attack if Jacob vomited on the floor.

"You all right?" he asked nervously, staring at Jacob’s sweat-sheened face.

"No," Jacob replied. "My legs don’t work, my stomach feels like it’s full of snakes and I think I need to run away somewhere and hide."

"You’ll be fine," Carlos said confidently, not confessing that he felt pretty much the same. "It’s only a ball, right? We go, we smile, we tell people about us..." he trailed off. "I’m gonna be sick."

Jacob managed a nervous little laugh. "At least that’d discourage people from wanting to dance with us."

Carlos closed his eyes. Dancing, oh dear. He’d been trying to learn, he really had. Sadly, the fates which had gifted him with great eyesight and good skill with a bow hadn’t been as kind as far as his feet were concerned.

‘Like a donkey trying to walk on its hind legs’, was how one dancing master had described him attempting to waltz. Strange, given that his footwork during sword training had really been improving. Although maybe that had something to do with the fact Jacob had, more often than not, been the one teaching him.

"Let’s elope."

Jacob grinned. "If I thought my mother wouldn’t hunt us down and drag us back herself, I would. Sadly I know she’d bring us back here kicking and screaming. Protocol and all that." He mimicked Valentina’s voice, "A prince must have a birthday ball, Jacob. It’s tradition and you will not be the first to break that, do you understand me?"

"You’re pretty good at that," Carlos said, mock-serious. "You could do voices for a living, we could join the strolling players."

"And what would you do?" Jacob asked.

Carlos looked at his boots, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "Whatever you wanted me to."

A moment later Jacob’s arms were round him and the air left his lungs in a great ‘ooof’.

"We’ll be fine," Jacob said, obviously trying to convince himself as well as Carlos. "It’s just a ball. It’s not like irate fathers are going to be out for our blood or anything. At least, not tonight. We’ll be fine."

"Can’t breathe," Carlos gasped. "Jake...air...can’t breathe...let go."

Jacob let go and stepped back, a strange expression on his face. "What did you call me?"

"Um, I don’t know." Was Jacob annoyed at having his name shortened?

"Nobody’s called me Jake since I was a kid. Father used to call me that when we played together sometimes."

"Sorry," Carlos focused on smoothing wrinkles out of his deep red breeches. "Just slipped out."

"I like it," Jacob’s finger traced Carlos’ cheekbone. "I like that you’re the only one who says it." His eyes lingered on Carlos’ mouth. "Do we have time?"

"We always have time," Carlos said, already pushing Jacob, no, Jake, backwards toward the bed. "Just think of this as a taster as to what we can do later."

It was an unfortunate coincidence that Pooch pushed the door open just as Carlos licked a stripe up Jake’s waiting cock.

"Ahh!" Pooch clapped both hands over his face. "My eyes, dammit! I’m scarred for life."

"Pooch!" Jake snapped, tugging a sheet over himself, his cheeks stained with embarrassment. "Do you never knock?"

"Forgive me for thinking you’d lock the door if you wanted to do that kind of thing," Pooch retorted.

"Have you never heard of ‘the heat of the moment’?" Jacob said. "We were in the midst of the throes of passion and you ruined it."

Carlos and Pooch shared a glance and both mouthed, ‘the throes of passion?’ before descending into laughter.

Jake huffed and wrapped the sheet tightly around his waist. "Fine, laugh at me." He wagged a finger at Carlos. "Just wait till you’re in the mood and I refuse."

"Yeah, like you’d do that," Pooch chuckled. "The way you look at him most of the time, it’s like you’re trying to decide whether anyone would be shocked if you ripped his clothes off there and then."

It was Carlos’ turn to blush.

Pooch began efficiently scooping up the clothes which had been tried on and then abandoned on the floor as ‘unsuitable’. "Do you two not understand the concept of closets?"

"Hey, we’re anxious here, don’t be mean," Jacob replied. "At least you don’t have to go and stand in front of a couple hundred people and explain that we’re very sorry but I won’t be marrying any of their daughters because I’ve already found the person I want."

Carlos’ insides twisted painfully again. Should he run to the bathroom? "They’re going to lynch us," he groaned.

"Of course they won’t," Pooch said briskly, still cleaning up. "Don’t be dumb. He’s a prince and you’re a prince’s consort, nobody will be getting lynched. I bet most people will just be happy for you. Granted a few might be a little annoyed but they don’t matter." He stopped and smiled at them both. "I think it’s really nice that you’re together."

"Thanks, Pooch," Jacob said gratefully.

Carlos settled for an uncertain smile.

"Right," Pooch shoved the rest of the clothes back into the nearest closet. "Are you definitely wearing those outfits?"

Carlos looked down at himself. Snow white linen shirt, tight red breeches, black velvet riding coat and tall, shiny black leather boots. "Um, yes?"

Pooch cocked his head to one side and looked at him thoughtfully. "I think you’ll do. Assuming you don’t clash with Prince Peacock over here."

Jacob glared and muttered insults under his breath as he pulled his breeches back up.

Pooch chuckled, unperturbed.

The shirt Jacob had picked out was black linen, he said black had always been his color, given his bright blond hair. His breeches were pale sky blue, sinfully tight and honestly a little bit fabulous. He also had a black coat, cut differently to Carlos’ but still made of velvet.

"Not bad," Pooch grinned as Jacob shrugged on the coat and adjusted his boots. "The girls might be weeping to think they don’t have a chance with you."

"Not as much as they’ll be weeping when they hear Carlos is off the market," Jacob said, giving Carlos an appreciative look up and down. "You look great."

"Thanks," Carlos croaked, his throat painfully dry. "You too."

"Time to go," Pooch announced. "The queen’s waiting, she sent me to come get you."

"Help," Jake said faintly.

Carlos swallowed hard and forced a smile. "We’ll be fine."

"Come on, move it, soldiers," Pooch barked, herding them toward the door. "Destiny waits for no man."

***

"Oh, you look wonderful," Queen Valentina cried when they entered her chambers. "Both of you, you’re amazing. Jacob, I had no idea you scrubbed up so well, there’s usually a layer of dust on you. And Carlos," she took his hand and gazed at him fondly. "You’re such a handsome boy, you look fantastic."

Carlos inwardly cursed as his cheeks heated up again. He bobbed his head and muttered incomprehensible thanks.

"Nervous?" Valentina asked shrewdly.

"Nope," Jake lied baldly. Carlos smiled.

"Good," the queen said. "You’ve nothing to be scared of. Just go in there and tell them the truth. If they don’t like it, well, they can come and see me."

It felt a little odd to have people on his side, Carlos realized. Kind of nice, actually. A thought smashed into his brain, making him miss the next part of the conversation.

What about Max? And Henry and Adam? It wasn’t that he wanted them to share in the most important night of his life but somehow he felt that perhaps they should at least see what he’d managed to do, despite their torments. Carlos the uneducated farmboy had become Carlos the knight and was about to become Carlos, knight of the realm and consort to a prince.

Jake poked him between the ribs. "Hey, what are you thinking about?"

"Max," Carlos replied. "And my stepbrothers." At Jake’s surprised glance he elaborated. "I don’t know, I just thought maybe it’d be good to show them how far I’ve come." He shook his head. "Doesn’t matter."

"If it matters to you, dear, it matters," Valentina said. "I’ll see what I can do about getting them brought to the villa. I take it you don’t want to speak to them or anything..?"

"No," Carlos shook his head quickly. "I just...I don’t know."

"You want to rub it in their faces the way they rubbed it in yours for years that you were nothing but a lackey for them to control," Jacob supplied. "I get it."

"It’s cruel and I shouldn’t..." Carlos began.

"I’ll make sure they’re there," Valentina interrupted with a smile. "You don’t have to feel guilty about anything, dear. They’re bad people."

Was he any better, Carlos wondered. But he nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

"All right, then." The queen did a little gleeful jig. "Time to go out to the villa, I think. There’s a carriage waiting for you in the courtyard. We assumed you’d want to ride there together."

"Thank you," Carlos said again, relieved beyond measure that he wasn’t expected to arrive on his own.

"Be off with you, then," Valentina kissed them each on the cheek. "Have fun, I’ll see you there."

***

The Fountain Villa certainly lived up to its name. The gardens were dotted with carved stone water features, all burbling and babbling elegantly. Carlos watched them as they passed. It was a nice place, peaceful when it was empty. Sadly, tonight it wasn’t empty at all.

The large space in front of the main building was already crowded with coaches and carriages. Carlos quickly ducked as they rattled past, heading for a quieter spot at the rear of the villa.

"At least we can get into the place undisturbed, right?" Jake said, his voice shaky with nerves.

"Hmm," Carlos wondered whether getting back out would present more of a challenge.

The carriage halted and Pooch’s cheerful face appeared at the window. "All change, please. End of the line."

They climbed out. Carlos nervously smoothed his breeches again.

"You’ll be fine," Pooch said, smacking his hands away. "Leave it, you’re putting more creases in ‘em. You look great. Just go in there, tell ‘em what you have to tell ‘em and get out. Nobody’s gonna be mad at you."

"You sure about that?" Carlos muttered.

Pooch grinned. "Well, maybe a few girls might hate you for life for stealing their chance at royalty but that’s just their tough luck, isn’t it?" He clapped Carlos on the shoulder, making him stumble forward slightly. "Go on, you’ll be great, both of you. I have every faith in you."

"Glad you do," Jake muttered, but grinned. "All right, let’s go in and get into position before Mother has some kind of heart attack thinking we’ve decided to elope."

Going inside the villa seemed very like deliberately walking into the lion’s den but Carlos couldn’t see a way to avoid it. Taking deep breaths and wondering if there was alcohol anywhere nearby, he followed Jacob into the cool depths of the building.

***

Aisha turned this way and that, staring into her mirror. Her dusky rose dress flowed wonderfully. The heavy satin swirled around her feet and clung to her thighs in just the right way. The tight sleeves ended at her wrists but the plunging neckline showed that she wasn’t a shrinking violet. Pearls trimmed the waist and ran down the centre of the skirt, gleaming dully in the candlelight.

She wove a string of seed pearls into her dark hair, if she was going to become a queen, she may as well look like one.

Impressive chandelier earrings were next and lastly her mother’s necklace. She ran her fingers over the small stones and centre flower, all gleaming lustrously.

"I won’t fail, Mother. I’ll be queen if it kills me."

The love potion shone in its crystal bottle. Reverently, she placed it in the small bag which matched her dress. That tiny bottle held her future. How marvellous.

With one last look at herself, she turned on her heel and strode out to her waiting carriage. No nerves fluttered in her stomach because she knew all she was doing was meeting her destiny. It was meant to be, there was no point in being nervous. Once she dosed him with the potion, Prince Jacob would be her adoring slave and nobody could do a thing to stop her marrying him.

She leaned back into the plush seat and laughed out loud. Everything was just so wonderful.


	17. Chapter 17

Carlos had never seen so many nobles gathered together in one place before. The villa’s ballroom was positively teeming with them. The heavy cloying scent of many perfumes mingled together, tickling his nose and making him sneeze. Jacob laughed softly.

"Never change, all right?"

"Done," Carlos agreed. "Same goes for you."

"Deal," Jake nodded. A confident smile was fixed on his face. "Better look happy or people will think I’m forcing you to do this."

Carlos quickly smiled and nodded at the people who were staring at him. They looked gratifyingly flustered and nodded back before scuttling away to whisper furiously amongst themselves.

"All wondering why you’re here with me and not getting drunk with the other knights, no doubt," Jacob whispered.

They were standing on a small platform near the main doors. Servants flanked it and announced each guest who entered the ballroom. Carlos’ neck was already getting stiff from so much nodding and bowing and the smile on his face felt more like a grimace.

"How do you do this all the time?" he murmured. "This is torture."

"Takes practice," Jacob chuckled. "After a while you forget you’re even smiling."

"Lady Aisha of al-Fadhil," the servant beside Carlos cried, making him jump.

A slight but beautiful young woman inclined her head to Jacob, a winning smile on her lips. Carlos wondered whether he should be put out that she completely ignored him.

"It’s good to meet you at last, your Highness," Lady Aisha said.

Jacob frowned slightly, then replied, "Aisha, oh, yes, I remember. Are you the gir...lady my mother knows?"

Aisha’s smile grew but she ducked her head deferentially. Carlos decided he didn’t like her.

"I do know the queen," she admitted. "It’s unfortunate that we haven’t had a chance to meet before tonight." She shot a quick, slightly annoyed glance at Carlos. "Not to seem forward, but is there a chance we could talk, in private? I’m sure you don’t need a bodyguard tonight, nobody here would wish harm to their beloved prince."

"Carlos isn’t my bodyguard," Jacob said. He sounded unconcerned but Carlos heard the undercurrent of irritation in his voice. "I’m sorry, I don’t think the queen would be very pleased if I vanish in the middle of the ball. But please, help yourself to the buffet table, we’ll be along to steal the good food soon, so maybe there’ll be a chance to talk later."

Aisha bowed again and glided away, the fabric of her dress clinging in all the right places. Many a man cast an admiring glance at her. Carlos glared at her back, disliking her for no logical reason.

"What?" Jake hissed.

"Her," Carlos muttered back. "Don’t like her."

"You’re jealous," Jacob said delightedly. "That’s so adorable."

"Call me adorable again and I’ll punch you," Carlos growled.

"This is why we’re gonna be fine." Jacob’s fingers found Carlos’ wrist, warm and solid and enough to make Carlos’ breathing speed up. "No girl can compete with you."

***

Aisha clenched her teeth together as she slid through the crowd. Damn that prince and his stupid bodyguard. Just one minute alone, that was all she’d needed, she’d even given him the special smile no man had ever been able to resist. What was wrong with him? Was he simple or something?

She could just take the chance and try to dose Jacob with the potion when they were dancing or mingling, but it was risky. Magic affected different people different ways, if he had an instant reaction to it, she didn’t want to be seen near him in case people put two and two together.

A deep breath calmed her down. It was only the beginning of the evening. She had plenty of time to get the little prince alone. Maybe later she could entice him out onto a balcony or upstairs with the promise of some fun. Then, she smiled to herself, _then_ the potion could quite literally work its magic and turn him into her faithful puppy.

She resisted rubbing her hands in glee but only just.

***

The servant announcing the guests looked a little confused when Bernice walked through the doors. "Um, Bernice Longfellow?"

Carlos beamed and waved at her. She smiled back and wiggled her fingers nervously. Dropping into a curtsey in front of them, she murmured, "Your Highness, Knight Carlos."

"You don’t have to bow," Jacob said. "You’re our friend."

Bernice straightened up and smiled. Carlos gazed at her. That Aisha woman had been pretty, he supposed, but Bernice was beautiful. Rich gold satin swirled around her feet as she moved, clung to her hips and slid over her curves. Her dark hair was gathered up into a simple bun at the back of her head which emphasised her high cheekbones and slightly slanted eyes.

She flushed slightly under his gaze and grasped the fabric of her skirt. "What do you think?"

"You’re beautiful," Carlos replied, a proud smile on his face. She was the sister he’d never had, he suddenly realized. "Sorry I was an ass last time we met."

"’s’all right," she said. "I don’t mind."

Jacob leaned forward to be part of the conversation. "That’s a good dress, if I may say so. Not that I know anything about dresses but yours is the best here, I think."

Bernice’s smile was almost brighter than Jacob’s. "Those tailors were incredible. They spent an hour arguing over what color I should wear. My family thought they were strolling players, they were so entertaining." She looked around, a little self-consciously. "What do I do now?"

"Food?" Carlos suggested. "There’s a buffet."

"Carlos," Bernice fixed him with a sharp eye. "I can’t eat in this dress, if I gain half a pound everyone will be able to see it." She ran her fingers over the admittedly form-fitting bodice. "Can I hide in a corner?"

"I don’t think you’ll have to," Jacob said. "I think you’re about to be asked to dance by nearly every single man here and a lot of the married ones, too." A wicked smile danced on his lips. "If I wasn’t up here, I might ask you to dance as well."

Carlos poked him.

"What?" Jake laughed, rubbing his arm. "I didn’t say I didn’t ever want to dance with you. But Bernice is all shiny and smooth and squashy in the right places."

"You two are like children." Bernice shook her head in mock-despair. "I hope everything goes all right, you know, when you announce about the two of you."

"Thanks, Bern," Carlos said quietly, his stomach uncomfortably unsettled again.

A tall young man with dark hair and pale skin approached the platform and bowed. "Your Highness, if I may be so bold as to request a dance from your lovely friend..."

"By all means," Jake grinned, then narrowed his eyes. "Don’t step on her toes."

The young man stuttered his thanks and assurances that he’d take good care of Bernice, then escorted her out on to the already crowded floor.

"I’m glad she came," Jake said, watching her.

Carlos was glad too, both for her and for himself. At least now he’d have one friendly face in the crowd when they learned about Jake’s choice.

***

"Lord Franklin Clay and manservant." The man beside the platform continued booming out people’s names as they passed him. Carlos wondered whether perhaps he needed a drink yet.

Clay bowed low before them, then looked up with a twinkle in his eye which could only spell trouble. Roque managed to look insolent even while bowing, then glared around him.

"Nice party," Clay said quietly.

"Too many women," Roque muttered. "You’ll get slapped within five minutes."

"And laid with fifteen," Clay beamed. He stood straighter, pushing his broad shoulders back. The closest women cast him admiring glances.

Carlos had to admit he cleaned up well, although where he’d gotten the dark green velvet breeches and flowing shirt from was anybody’s guess. Roque still looked like Roque, even in a clean shirt and tasteful dark brown breeches. The pissed off expression on his face cleared as he saw the buffet table.

"Food, thank the Elders, I’m starving."

"Fine, go stuff yourself," Clay waved a negligent hand, every inch the noble. "I’ll be where the girls are."

"Don’t call me when an angry husband wants to kill you." Roque looked almost delighted at the prospect.

"Okie dokie." Clay rubbed his hands in glee. "Let me at ‘em." He started to move away, then stopped, his face blank.

"What?" Roque asked, business-like in an instant.

"Magic," Clay replied quietly. "That love spell, I can smell it again. It’s somewhere nearby."

"Nearby?" Carlos said, confused. "Why would there be magic here?"

"Is it in the room?" Jacob asked, an edge of panic to his tone. "Oh crap, it’s meant for me, isn’t it? Somebody doesn’t want to take the chance of me not choosing them." He looked at Carlos, his blue eyes wide and scared. "I don’t want to fall in love with someone else."

"Relax," Clay said before Carlos had a chance to process exactly what Jake had just said. "Even the strongest love spell won’t work on somebody who’s already found their true love."

"You sure?" Jake asked desperately.

"I’m...fairly sure," Clay replied, glancing at Roque.

"I don’t remember reading that anywhere," Roque said. "You sure you didn’t just make that up?"

"I’m a professional, I do not _make things up_ ," Clay snapped, but a worried frown appeared between his brows. "We need to find that spell before it does any damage."

"Can you still smell it?" Carlos stood and leaned forward over the edge of the platform, scanning the crowd anxiously. Jacob’s panic was starting to infect him, what if the spell worked? What if Jake forgot about him and fell blindly in love with someone else? How would they ever fix that? "Clay?"

"Don’t worry," Clay flapped his hands in what Carlos supposed was a calming gesture. "We’ll find it."

"Don’t go using magic yourself, though," Jacob said. "Nobody here knows about you, remember."

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Clay said, staring around the room. "Don’t worry. Go back to being princely and we’ll take care of this."

Carlos caught Clay’s eye. "Clay, you _have_ to make this go away. Please." It was probably just Jake’s worry transferring to him, but a twisting ball of fear was in his stomach and growing bigger by the second.

Clay smiled, the confident, almost smarmy smirk which betrayed that he wasn’t telling the absolute truth. "We’ll take care of it. Relax."

Then they were gone. Clay and Roque moved into the crowd and were lost to view within moments. Carlos looked at Jacob. He was pale and his mouth was pressed into a tight line.

"I’m sure everything will be fine..." Carlos began, not really feeling the words.

"I don’t want anyone else," Jake said fiercely. "Want you. Don’t you let anyone get in the way, all right? If they hit me with that damn spell...I don’t know, punch me or something. Shove my head in cold water, I don’t care what you have to do, I forgive you in advance. _Do not_ let me leave here with anyone else but you."

Carlos nodded seriously, already making a mental checklist of ways to snap someone out of a love spell. "All right. But it won’t come to that. Clay and Roque’ll find the bastard and get rid of that thing before it does any damage."

"I hope so," Jake muttered, staring out over the crowd.

***

Before Carlos had chance to comfort Jake any further, a servant coughed respectfully behind them.

"Knight Carlos?"

Carlos still couldn’t quite believe that people treated him with deference rather than disgust, it was a bit mind-blowing.

"Um, yes?"

"Queen Valentina sent me to inform you that your stepfather and stepbrothers are here, should you wish to see them."

Panic ate at Carlos again. Of all the times for Max to appear. No, he didn’t want to see them, not right now with yet more problems hanging over his and Jake’s heads. He swallowed and floundered, desperately searching for something knightly to say.

"Later," Jacob snapped, a full-blown prince again in an instant. "Keep them away from us for now. Put them in the wine cellar or something, anywhere you can lock the door on ‘em. We’ll let you know when we want to see them."

The servant bowed and backed away.

"Thanks," Carlos muttered, feeling inadequate again.

"Sorry, did I interfere?" Jacob said distractedly. "Figured we’ve got enough to deal with right now."

"No, you’re right," Carlos quickly replied. "I hope Clay finds that spell soon."

A booming gong reverberated through the ballroom, quieting the guests and silencing the gentle harp music which had been playing in the background since people began to arrive.

Carlos looked round to see the huge doors to the room gliding shut. He swallowed down abrupt panic. Well, this was it. They were about to tell a room full of nobles that he and Jake were together. And there was someone in the crowd willing to use a love spell. And Max was in the cellar again. He really needed a strong drink.

King Edward’s voice broke through the low hum of conversation. "My Lords and Ladies, I thank you for attending this ball in honor of my son Jacob’s birthday. It seems the little boy my queen and I raised is now a man and responsible for his own decisions."

He cast an indulgent smile at Jacob, who grinned back. Carlos admired his self-control once more.

The king went on, "As you all know, one of the most important decisions a prince can make regards the small matter of his consort."

A ripple of excitement moved through the crowd. This was unusual, normally no announcement regarding the prince’s choice was made until the end of the evening.

Edward smiled again and continued, "It may surprise you to learn that Jacob has already chosen the person he wishes to spend his life with. I must admit, it was something of a surprise, one could even say, shock, to me as well. But having seen Jacob with the object of his affection, I have to say, I doubt he could have made a finer choice."

Jake looked at Carlos, a genuine half-smile on his lips. Carlos felt his cheeks flush.

"Without further gilding of lilies and with no more useless words from me, I’m sure you’re all sick of hearing my voice anyway," the king paused to allow the titters of polite laughter to subside, "allow me to present my son, Prince Jacob and his consort, the Knight Carlos."

Every head turned toward Carlos and Jake. The breath in Carlos’ chest caught, this was real, he was really with Jake, the king himself had announced it. There was no going back now.

A murmur started in the corner of the room and rapidly spread like wildfire through the guests.

Everyone’s wondering what I did to get here

, Carlos thought miserably. Jacob’s foot pressed down on his and their shoulders brushed slightly. Carlos stood straighter, a little heartened at being reminded that he wasn’t alone.

Jacob held out his hands for quiet and smiled as the muttering died away. "Thank you, your Majesty," he bowed respectfully to his father. "My Lords and Ladies, thank you for attending this ball in honor of my birthday, you all look wonderful and I’m touched that you made such an effort. I know the news of my choice may be something of a surprise to some of you, to others perhaps less so, the rumor mill has been working overtime, from what I’ve heard."

A few people laughed softly. Jacob smiled, then turned to look at Carlos.

"I assure you all that Carlos is most definitely the best person I could possibly have chosen as my consort. I know it’s a little unusual for a prince to not take a wife but who am I to argue with love?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Carlos saw Clay raise his glass in a tiny toast.

Jacob went on, "Carlos is not only a knight, he’s also my friend. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever known. He’s brave and clever and cares about others. He fights for what he holds dear and won’t give up on anything." Jake took a deep breath before saying in a rush, "I love him dearly and I can only hope he holds me in the same kind of regard."

Carlos’ eyebrows shot up. Nobody had told him Jake would say things like that. What was he supposed to say in return? He found his own mouth moving, almost of its own volition. "I do. Very much. Thank you."

Jake laughed in delight and turned to the crowd. "Carlos isn’t one for lots of flowery words, which I’m sure will be a relief to all of you."

A few people laughed, most still looked dumb-struck. Carlos noticed that a few girls were glaring at him as though they could wish him dead there and then. Some were sobbing quietly into their parents’ arms. Nerves twisted his stomach again.

The shocked silence seemed to be getting even to Jake. "Um, well, I think that’s about all we came to say. There’s plenty of food so...enjoy the rest of the evening."

Tinkling music started up again as he turned away from the crowd and climbed down from the platform. Carlos followed him, acutely aware of hundreds of eyes on him. Head down, he blindly followed Jake through the crush of people, trusting him to go somewhere quiet.

The muttering and talking grew louder again, people turned to one another and gasped in scandalized tones. Clapping his hands over his ears probably wouldn’t look knightly, Carlos decided, as much as he wanted to.

They ended up in a corner of the room, Jacob obviously hadn’t known where he was going either.

"I think that went as well as we could have expected," he said, turning to face the crowd.  "I hope Clay found that love spell."

" _Well_?" Carlos echoed disbelievingly. "People are looking at me as though they want to kill me."

"They probably do," Jacob replied. "You’re the one standing between them and getting their daughter onto a throne, aren’t you?"

"I need a drink." Carlos stood on tiptoe to see the buffet table. "I’m going...that way. I’ll come back in a minute."

"Enjoy yourself," Jacob said. He looked relaxed and at ease but Carlos could see the tight lines around his eyes, Jake wasn’t any happier at the way things had gone than he was.

Carlos really did need a drink and for some reason his stomach had decided it was absolutely starving. Probably because he’d been too nervous to eat anything all day. Slipping through the crowd as politely as he could, he tried to ignore the blatant staring and poisonous glares which followed him.

***

Aisha wasn’t dumbstruck. She was surprised, yes, but she wasn’t the type to allow that surprise to shock her into immobility.

Straightening her bodice determinedly, she made her way through the crowd, aiming for the corner Prince Jacob had taken refuge in.

So he thought he was in love with the pretty little knight, so what? One whiff of the potion she held clutched in her hand and he’d forget all about the man. He’d be hers, body and soul and doubtless people would rejoice a little for it meant he wasn’t about to depart from the accepted role of a prince after all. She would play his devoted wife and when the time came to dispatch him, she’d give him a lavish funeral and wear black for far longer than society dictated.

Her eyes on Jacob, she slid through gaps in the crush around her, her slim frame making it easy to pass unnoticed.

One person did notice her though. Clay raised his head as she slipped past him, sniffing the air. He slapped Roque’s shoulder and pointed frantically at her.

But Aisha didn’t see him, her eyes were on Jacob, her prize.

***

"There," Clay snapped. "There, her, that one. Potion, it stinks, can’t you smell it?"

Roque sniffed and grimaced. "Smells like flowers. Sickly."

"Stop her," Clay pushed at him. "She’s heading for Jacob, stop her, for the love of the Elders!"

To give Roque his due, he was good at following orders when it mattered. His wide shoulders and sheer physical presence made it easy for him to force a path through the crowd. People scattered before him and closed up behind him, glaring and throwing insults at his back.

Clay stayed as close as he could but keeping an eye on the thin woman in pink meant he struggled to move as quickly as Roque.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carlos standing at the buffet table, a glass in his hand and a worried tilt to his mouth.

"Carlos!" Clay yelled, having to really shout to make himself heard over the now deafening conversation of hundreds of people. "Carlos, spell, Jacob, hurry!"

Carlos looked up, his eyes scanning the people near him to locate the person yelling his name.

"Get to Jacob!" Clay yelled again, shoving a be-wigged, perfumed man out of his way. "Love spell, move, now!"

Realization and horror dawned on Carlos’ face as he understood what Clay was saying. Turning, he began fighting to get to Jacob as well.

Clay put his head down and concentrated on getting close enough to cast some kind of protection spell. Magic began to crackle around his hands, snapping and sparking. People near him shot alarmed glances as he shoved his way past them and the conversation began to grow louder and more worried. Clay swore, then forgot about everything but protecting Jacob. Humans were about to see magic, well, surely the Council couldn’t blame him, his hand was being forced. Hopefully they’d take their anger out on the bitch with the love spell rather than on him.

Either way, the party was about to get a lot more interesting.

***

"No, no, no, no," Carlos chanted as he struggled to get back to Jake. "Shit, please, no." Their happy ending was right there, they were about to be allowed to spend the rest of their lives together, surely fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to take that away now, would it?

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry," he muttered, not really sure who or what he was apologizing to. "I want Jake, more than anything, please, I know I haven’t acted like it, but please..."

Through the people ahead of him, he could see Roque’s wide shoulders cutting a swathe toward Jake. Struggling to make the same headway as the big man, Carlos kept muttering and moving forward.

Bernice swam into his field of vision, her face concerned. "Carlos, what’s wrong?"

"Everything," he gasped, pushing his way through gaps in the throng. "Need to get to Jake."

***

Just a few more steps. Aisha allowed herself a victorious smile. A few more steps, a quick underhand throw and the potion bottle would smash at Prince Jacob’s feet. As soon as the spell reached his skin, it would be absorbed and start working its magic on his heart and brain. All thoughts of that knight would leave him and he’d be hers.

It was lucky she knew how to make such a specific spell, a generic love potion would have risked Jacob falling for the first person he saw. This way, he’d only have eyes for her.

She laughed out loud and forced her way through another gap in the crowd.

***

"Jake!"

Jacob looked up as Carlos’ panicked voice reached his ears.

"Love spell! Jake, move!"

Looking around him, Jake saw with growing dismay that he was hemmed in. There were people everywhere, most of them glaring at him as disapprovingly as they dared.

A slim woman in a pink dress appeared out of the crowd, a triumphant smile on her face.

"Aisha?" Jacob said.

"My prince," Aisha smiled wickedly. She held something tightly in her hand, Jacob’s mouth dropped open as he saw it was a small bottle with swirling pink and red lights within it.

" _You?_ " Jake gasped, his hands dropping to his sword even though he had no room to swing it. "My mother was trying to set me up with you!"

"And if you’d just agreed to see me, this wouldn’t have been necessary, would it?" Aisha snarled. "Now just calm down and let this work, you won’t feel a thing, I promise."

"Carlos!" Jake yelled, desperately looking for an escape route and finding none. People were staring at them as though Jacob had gone abruptly insane, they probably thought he had already, given that he’d chosen Carlos.

"Shut up and hold still," Aisha said, her eyes never leaving him.

"Get away from me, witch," Jake cried. "I don’t love you and I never will, no matter what spells you’ve got."

"I beg to differ," Aisha smiled. "You’ll love me till the day you die."

She drew back her arm and flung the little crystal bottle at him. As he watched it somersault through the air, almost in slow-motion, Jake heard Carlos’ anguished voice, yelling at people to get out of his way.

He shrank back, trying to make himself as small a target as possible. But the second before the bottle smashed against his legs, Roque flung himself between it and Jake.

Aisha screamed in fury as the potion splashed over Roque’s knees. "No! What have you...damn you!"

Roque winced and swiped at the liquid running down his legs. It seemed to be burning holes through his breeches and stockings, leaving open, smoking wounds on the dark skin beneath.

"Bitch," he snarled, starting forward toward Aisha, only to stop and gasp for breath. "Hate witches."

"Oh, sticks and stones," Aisha said, making ‘come get me’ gestures.

Gasps and screams from the crowd filled the ballroom, Roque’s wings had fluttered free. Jake saw that they were no longer baby pink, whatever the potion was doing to the big man’s skin, it had also turned his wings a deep, dark blue. Tiny glints of light shone as he moved, they looked for all the world like the star-studded midnight sky.

Clay slid to a halt next to Roque, throwing an arm over his shoulders. "Roque? You okay, buddy? Come on, talk to me."

"Fine," Roque muttered. "Get her."

Clay looked up at Aisha, his face set in hard lines which made Jake very glad the godfather’s anger wasn’t directed at him.

"You," Clay growled. "I’m gonna kill you."

"You can try," Aisha scoffed.

Without another word, Clay hurled a ball of bright white light at her. Aisha’s eyes widened in surprise but to give credit where it was due, her reactions were fast enough to allow her to fling up her hands and block the magic.

The crowd had retreated to the very edges of the room now, watching with horrified expressions on their faces. Jacob knew how they felt, finding out that magic did indeed still exist was something of a punch to the gut, considering how hard the old kings had worked to stamp it out.

Carlos skidded to a stop next to him, having just managed to fight his way through the jostling, panicking throng.

"Are you all right?" he gasped, both hands framing Jake’s face. "You still know me? Jake?"

"I’m fine," Jake said, patting him. "She hit Roque instead. Help him, that potion...I don’t know what it’s doing to him."

But Roque waved away their worried attentions with a gruff, "Get away from here and leave it to us."

Standing up straight, he limped forward to help Clay, who was throwing spell after spell at the shield Aisha seemed to have conjured up around herself.

Jake knew the big man was right, but he couldn’t drag his fascinated gaze away from the fight on front of them.

Aisha’s shield rippled red, green, blue and black as Clay’s spells bounced off of it. Clay’s face grew more and more angry as nothing he tried seemed to work. Roque reached his side and joined in, flinging a spell the color of mud at Aisha. It splattered over her shield, discoloring it.

"That was good," Clay muttered, "do that again."

Aisha shrieked in fury as Roque hit her with three more swift mud-colored spells. "Filthy fairies! You’re not welcome here!"

Lowering her shield for a second, she threw a blood-red spell which sizzled and spat as it flew, at Roque.

He ducked and laughed. "You wanna kill me, little girl, you’re gonna have to try harder than that."

"Fine," Aisha muttered.

Jake clutched at Carlos’ coat.

Two more of the bright red spells soared across the gap between Aisha and the two fairies. Roque barely managed to deflect them, one ricocheted off to embed itself in the wall ten feet away, the other bounced off of Roque’s burly forearm and hit Jake.

"No!" Carlos yelled as Jake collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. He just managed to catch him as he slumped to the floor. "No, no, no, no. Jake? Come on, open your eyes, come on. Jake?"

Jacob’s mouth lolled open, his eyes stayed firmly shut. Carlos felt a wail building inside of him. How could this happen? After everything they’d done, everything they’d been through to get to this point, how could the fates let this happen now?

Faintly, over the roaring in his ears, he heard Aisha give a girlish, high pitched laugh. "That wasn’t the plan but I guess if I can’t have him, why should anyone else?"

Grief somehow gave way to fury. Laying Jacob very gently down on the polished oak floor, Carlos stood, fingers searching for the sword which Jake had insisted he wear that night. Drawing it, he heard the hiss as it left its scabbard. _‘All right,’_ the blade seemed to say, shining under the light of many chandeliers. _‘Let’s go to work. Let’s do something knightly. Kill the bitch.’_

Before he knew what he was doing, Carlos found himself running at Aisha, both hands wrapped around the sword hilt, the blade flashing high in the air as he raised it. With every ounce of force he possessed, he slammed it down on the twinkling shield which lay between him and his prey. To his intense surprise, the shield melted as the polished metal touched it. He staggered forward, the force of his blow adding momentum to his run.

Aisha took advantage of his momentary loss of balance to shriek something in a language Carlos didn’t understand. He heard Clay yell in fury and large hands on his shoulders dragged him back, away from the green fire which suddenly surrounded him, licking at his boots.

"Let me go!" he yelled, struggling madly against Clay’s iron grip. "Let me go, damn it! She killed Jake!"

Saying it out loud destroyed the dam holding back his grief. Carlos suddenly knew nothing could stop him from getting to Aisha. Ripping himself out of Clay’s hands wrenched his shoulder but who cared about pain at a moment like that?

Aisha’s eyes widened as Carlos threw himself through the green fire which coiled around her like a serpent. Throwing up her hands, she conjured another shield, which melted as quickly as the previous one had when Carlos’ blade touched it.

With his face set in a snarl, Carlos hacked and swung at her, not caring about the lessons he’d learned about finesse and letting the weight of the sword do the work for him. The only thought in his head was that of revenge. Her bloodied, utterly dead body would never make up for the loss of Jake but it would be a beginning.

Aisha seemed to realize that this was a fight she couldn’t win. Darting out of the way of another huge swing of the blade, she spat something in another incomprehensible language. Carlos thrust the sword forward, an inch away from spearing her right through her torso when...she wasn’t there any more.  He staggered and barely kept his balance, looking wildly around.

Clay and Roque both gave great yells of anger. They were looking up at the ceiling, Carlos followed their eyes and saw a slim hawk circling up there, obviously looking for a way out.

Roque hurled a yellow spell which hit the molded plaster on the ceiling, shattering it and causing great lumps to fall onto the crowd beneath. More shrieks and screams echoed around the room. As one, the nobles turned and began fighting their way toward the great double doors.

"Don’t open them!" Carlos heard Clay yell. "She’ll escape!"

But the crowd was too big and too scared to hear him. People began to scream in earnest as they were separated from their loved ones and the danger of a stampede grew to be a very real possibility.

"Clay," Carlos barked, amazed at how normal his voice sounded. "End this. Now."

Clay turned eyes glowing with deep red flames on him for a moment, then inclined his head in a tiny bow. With what was obviously a huge effort, he threw a spell up at the hawk, which was now beating its wings against the walls, clearly desperate to escape.

As the spell hit the bird, the room was filled with smoke and a deafening explosion threw Carlos off his feet. Coughing and spluttering, he scrambled back up, trying to waft the smoke away enough to see what had happened.

Dimly, through the lingering murk, Carlos saw someone lying on the floor in the middle of the ballroom. Aisha. Her dress was ruined, great patches of it were smoldering and stained. Her hair looked like it had been on fire and large burns decorated her now bare arms.

With another incoherent yell, Carlos started toward her only to be held back once again by Clay.

"No! Carlos, listen, we need her alive to figure out what she did to Jacob. You understand? Don’t kill her."

Swallowing hard, Carlos willed the red tinge coloring his vision to subside. "What...what d’you mean, figure out what she did, she killed Jake. He’s dead." His voice broke on the last word and hot tears filled his eyes.

"No, he’s not," Roque called. He was sitting on the floor, cradling Jacob’s still form as gently as a mother would hold her newborn. "He’s breathing, but he’s unconscious. I think he’s asleep."

"Asleep?" Carlos spluttered. "What...how...not dead?"

"No, Carlos, not dead," Clay said impatiently. "Now put the damned sword away and stand back."

Struggling to understand what was going on, Carlos did as he was told.

Clay approached Aisha, golden ropes coiling out of his hands as he walked. With a click of his fingers, they wrapped themselves around Aisha’s slim body, making her wince as they touched her burns. Clay kneeled down beside her and began to talk in a low voice.

Most of the nobles were gone now. Only a few brave servants remained, along with the king and queen. Bernice hovered uncertainly in a corner, clearly torn between running to comfort Carlos and staying well away from the royal family.

Carlos took a step toward Edward and Valentina, then stopped.

"I...I’m sorry," he said brokenly, seeing the devastation on Valentina’s face.

With a quiet sob, she sank to her knees beside Roque, stroking Jacob’s hair away from his face. "My boy..."

"What is going on here?" King Edward demanded, his face very pale. "Carlos, explain this."

Even as his heart sank, Carlos admired Edward’s self control. The king’s eyes were on Jacob but his tone was that of a king, rather than a grieving father.

"I’m sorry," he said again. "We should have told you. Clay and Roque are fairy godfathers, they helped Jacob find me when Max sent me away. We thought we were doing the right thing, keeping it a secret that magic still exists. I didn’t...I never thought she’d...I’m sorry."

"In what world could it ever be ‘the right thing’ to keep something this important from the person running the damned kingdom?!" Edward demanded, his fists clenching at his sides. "Jacob said you were clever."

He stopped and looked down at the floor, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his composure. He glared at Roque, who gazed back impassively. "You said my son isn’t dead?"

"No," Roque replied evenly. "Just asleep, as far as I can tell. The spell she tried to hit me with would have killed him if it’d hit him first but it must have been diluted by my own magic. So it just put him into this state instead."

Carlos’ fingers twitched with the need to touch Jake, to hold him and make sure he was still warm and not cold and lifeless. The pinkness of his cheeks definitely spoke of continuing life but the shallow rise and fall of his chest was beyond worrying, was he breathing enough? Assuming they managed to wake him up, would he remember what had happened? Would he be the same Jake?

Clay suddenly rose to his feet and walked back toward him. Aisha spat insults and spells behind him but the golden ropes glowed and seemed to absorb all her magic before it could do any damage.

"Roque’s right," Clay rumbled. "Spell should have killed him but hitting Roque first took the worst of the punch away. He’s asleep for now."

"So what do we do to wake him up?" King Edward asked icily.

Clay grinned. "The same thing that always happens in fairy tales, your Majesty." He looked at Carlos. "We get his true love to kiss him awake."

Relief so strong it was almost too much to bear washed through Carlos. "So he’ll be all right? He’ll...he’ll wake up and still be Jake?"

"I hope so, kid," Clay replied. "But we won’t know for sure until you pucker up, will we?"

Carlos gave an odd kind of half-laugh, half-sob and nodded. Taking a step toward Jacob, he stopped and looked at the king, who was glowering at him.

"Please," he said, very softly. "Let me try."

"Magic, in my kingdom," Edward ran his hands through his hair, dislodging his crown. His eyes went back to Clay. "Fairy godfathers, I thought you’d bee wiped out years ago."

"The old kings tried, your Majesty," Clay said carefully. "But we’re more resilient than you might think. Let Carlos help your son."

"You’re absolutely sure this is the only way to wake him up?" Edward looked like a man about to have a breakdown. "We can’t do it without more magic?"

" _Edward_ ," Valentina said, still stroking Jacob’s face. The force behind her words made even the king go silent. "Do you want your son awake or not? Let them do whatever they want. If it brings Jacob back, it’ll be worth it."

Edward nodded, his eyes very weary and old. "All right."

Carlos darted forward and sank to his knees at Jacob’s side.

"Your Majesty," Clay’s voice was more gentle than Carlos had ever heard it before. "You need to let go of Jacob. Carlos is the one who can help him. Any other touch might confuse the magic and we don’t want that, do we?"

Valentina nodded and sniffed tearfully, then backed away to stand next to her husband.

Behind them, Aisha laughed. "No, no, of course, we don’t want that. Don’t want the poor little prince waking up thinking he’s a duck or anything, do we?"

Clay’s mouth tightened but he ignored her. Roque glared at her and flexed his muscles.

Carlos ignored them all. Kneeling very carefully beside Jacob, he leaned forward. He kept his hands to himself, now wasn’t the time to touch Jake and be accused of groping him by his very angry father. Keeping his eyes open, he pressed a gentle kiss to Jake’s mouth. Nothing happened.

"That’s pathetic," Roque growled.

"You have to _mean_ it," Clay explained. "You have to tell him, wherever he is, that you want him to come back. You have to make him hear you. Sometimes people don’t want to wake up. You have to give them a good reason for leaving the place they’re in. A peck like that won’t do it. I know this isn’t the most romantic of situations but forget all that and go for it. Be a man, for the sake of the Elders."

Valentina nodded encouragingly when he guiltily glanced up at her. "Go on, please. Help him."

Gathering his courage, Carlos sat down and pulled Jacob’s limp body halfway into his lap. Cradling his head with one hand and angling his face with the other, he closed his eyes and kissed Jake.

The ballroom vanished. Everything vanished. Somehow, Carlos knew he was still on the polished wooden floor but his mind went somewhere very different. In a heartbeat, lush green forest surrounded him. Birds called in the trees and warm sun filtered through the leaves. Startlingly bright flowers sprouted everywhere, splashes of blue and orange and vivid purple broke up the green walls.

"Jake?" Carlos called.

"Carlos?" Jake’s voice came from...somewhere. It was impossible to tell from where though.

"Jake, where are you?" Carlos said again.

"Right here." Jacob suddenly appeared out of the forest to the left of him.

Carlos had never felt such relief in his life. "Jake. I thought...are you all right?"

"I’m fine," Jake grinned. "How are you?" His smile slipped. "Um, are we dead? ‘Cause this wouldn’t be a bad place to be dead in, you know? I’ve been here...actually I don’t know how long I’ve been here but I’ve found fresh water and food and firewood and the animals here seem to actually _want_ to be caught. They keep flinging themselves in front of me, like they’re offering me dinner. It’s fantastic. And look at this..." he pulled a dagger from his belt. "This was mine, years ago. I lost it when I was about eleven. I loved this knife. And it was just laying on the ground when I got here."

"We’re not dead, Jake," Carlos said, worry beginning to gnaw at him. What if he couldn’t persuade Jake to leave? "This is all in your head, I think. The spell which hit you put you into some kind of cursed sleep. Clay says the only way to wake you up is for me to kiss you."

"So kiss me, then," Jake grinned and swiftly crossed the clearing to stand in front of him.

His hands were hot and insistent on Carlos’ face and arms. Relief at seeing him so plainly alive wiped the worry from Carlos’ mind but as Jacob kissed him it returned. It felt...wrong. He jerked back, out of Jake’s grasp, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. It burned like it was on fire, along with the places on his arms where Jake had gripped him.

"What’s..." Carlos gasped, "that’s not right. What’re you...you’re not Jake."

"Yes, I am," Jacob laughed. "What’re you talking about? Come here, we’re in paradise, there’s nobody to see. Get your clothes off. Too good an opportunity to miss, don’t you think?"

"No," Carlos quickly fended off Jake’s groping hands. "This isn’t right, you’re not thinking straight. Clay said you might not want to come back."

"Back?" Jake frowned as he attempted to drag Carlos’ coat off. "Back from where? And who’s Clay?"

"Stop it!" Carlos stumbled back a few more steps as Jake’s hands moved to his breeches. "This isn’t real, it’s all in your head. You’re unconscious on the ballroom floor at the Fountain Villa. I’m trying to wake you up. A witch hit you with a spell, don’t you remember?"

Desperation and dismay clawed at him, sinking talons into his heart and ripping relentlessly. "Clay’s the fairy godfather who’s been helping us. You remember him, don’t you? And Roque? The other godfather?"

"Not a clue what you’re on about," Jacob smiled wolfishly. "Shut up and lie down."

"No!" Carlos took cover behind a small sapling on the edge of the clearing. "Stop it. Think for a minute. You know this isn’t real. That knife, you lost it when you were eleven, how would it just suddenly appear on the ground? And the animals offering themselves up as dinner, when does that really happen? You haven’t been here long, come on, _remember_."

Jake’s lustful expression faltered. "The knife..." he blinked rapidly. "Maybe I didn’t lose it, maybe I just left it here for safekeeping. And the animals..." he shook his head, "I don’t know, stop trying to twist everything. This place is awesome and you’re ruining it."

A darkness Carlos had never seen before hovered in Jake’s eyes, turning them from their usual blue to a frightening stormy grey. "Leave me alone, go away."

"No," Carlos whispered. "Not going back without you."

"I’m _not leaving_ ," Jake snarled, suddenly slamming his fist into the tree truck which separated them. "Go away."

Making a decision without really meaning to, Carlos darted out from behind the tree and seized Jacob by his shirt front.

Twisting his hands into the soft fabric, he growled with a confidence he didn’t feel, "Shut up and listen to me. This isn’t real. Just for once do what you’re told and _wake up._ "

Before his courage deserted him, he crushed his mouth against Jake’s and held on for all he was worth.

Jake’s hands flailed wildly against his arms and back, trying to simultaneously pull him closer and push him away. Carlos still held on, pouring every ounce of desperate longing into the kiss.

Remember

, he tried to tell Jake. _Remember who you are and where you’re from. Come home. Please._

When lack of air forced him to break the kiss, Carlos didn’t let Jake go. Watching him fearfully, he said, "You remember what’s happening now?"

Jake frowned, his eyes no longer grey but blue and confused. "Carlos? What’re you...what am I...where are we? Shouldn’t we be at the ball?"

"Jake," Carlos almost wanted to cry in relief. "You remember, really remember what happened?"

"Love spell," Jake said, the frown deepening. "Witch, Roque, some kind of spell hit me and I woke up here. Seems like I’ve been here forever. Then you appeared. Oh no," he covered his eyes with a hand. "I groped you and tried to jump you. Sorry. In my defense I wasn’t thinking straight."

"Don’t worry about it," Carlos grinned, so happy he thought he might be hovering a few feet above the forest floor. "When we get home you can jump me in the woods anytime. But we should really go now, this place is creepy."

"Agreed."

They both gazed around at the trees which seemed a lot darker and more menacing than they had a few moments ago.

"So, how do we get out of here?" Jake asked.

"Um," Carlos was stumped. He’d assumed he’d kiss Jake and everything would be fine, a trip inside Jake’s head hadn’t been expected in the least. "I guess this is all of your making so maybe try thinking, ‘home’?"

Jacob nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. "I’m thinking, are we home yet?"

"Nope," Carlos answered glumly, glaring at the flowers which were now a poisonous yellow. "Think harder."

Screwing up his face, Jake obviously thought as hard as he could. "Anything?"

"No," Carlos sighed. "Still in the stupid forest."

"Yell for help?" Jake suggested.

"We’re in a place inside your head," Carlos replied. "Who is going to hear us?"

"Good point." Jacob began pacing. "Um, maybe if we both think ‘home’?"

"That’s the best you can come up with?"

"I’m currently in a cursed sleep, give me a break."

"Fine," Carlos dragged Jake close again. "We’ll both think it, clearly and with feeling, all right?"

"You know, in other circumstances, I’d be happy about getting the chance to kiss you a lot," Jake said. "As it is, I’m kind of worried. Performance anxiety, you know?"

"Shut up and kiss me," Carlos replied.

Jacob grinned.

This time, as their lips met, Carlos shut his eyes as tightly as he could and thought, ‘ _take us home, home, please, let us go home._ ’

The desperation to get out of the forest didn’t completely ruin the kiss though, Jacob’s hands were firm at his waist and the back of his neck. Sighing into Jake’s mouth, Carlos relaxed and just rode the sensations.

Abruptly, the forest melted around them and gave way to the solid floor of the ballroom. Carlos was suddenly aware that he was somewhat uncomfortable, sitting as he was with most of Jake’s weight in his lap. Blinking furiously to rid himself of images of trees and flowers, bright blue eyes swam into view. He smiled.

"Welcome home."

"Thanks," Jake grinned back up at him.

"Jacob?" Valentina’s voice cracked. "Are you all right?"

"I’m fine." Jake replied, raising a hand to rub at his eyes. "Tired, though. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"No!" Clay, the queen and Carlos all spoke at once.

Jacob pushed himself off of Carlos and sat up. "No, I don’t think I’ll sleep for a while. Just in case, you know?"

Clambering to his feet, he peered over Clay’s shoulder at Aisha, still bound and struggling a few feet away. "What happened?"

"Your consort went a little crazy and attacked her, broke her shields." Clay lifted an expressive shoulder. "Roque and I caught her."

"You attacked her?" Carlos felt blood rush to his cheeks as Jake turned to him with an admiring look on his face.

"I was mad," he offered. "Thought you were dead."

Jacob opened his mouth to say something else but the words were drowned as Bernice gave a startled shriek. Spinning on his heel, Carlos’ jaw dropped as he saw that Max had an arm around her neck and a knife pressed to the soft skin beneath her jaw. Adam and Henry were beside him, looking scared and unsure. Max’s face was frozen in fury.

"Everybody’s all set to get their happy ending, eh?" he snarled. "Well, so do I. I’m not going to rot in that cell any longer." His eyes settled on Carlos. "You’re the big fancy knight now, are you?" He snorted and spat onto the gleaming floor. "You’re nothing. A whore’s whelp and nothing more."

Jacob started forward, his hand on his sword, but stopped as the knife dug into Bernice’s neck.

"Ah, no you don’t, pretty prince," Max almost cooed. "You stay there. Young Carlos will do everything I want. Unless of course, royalty wants to get me a horse and safe passage out of the kingdom." He inclined his head mockingly to the king and queen. "You must be so proud, your son’s shacked up with a farmboy with the manners of a goat. Brain of one, too."

"Shut up," Jake said through gritted teeth. "You honestly think you’re going anywhere? I’ll hunt you down and throw you back into that cell myself."

"Likewise," King Edward said. "This is an impossible venture, man. There is no way out of here and no way any of us will aid you. Give up now before we’re forced to kill you."

"No!" Adam said desperately. "Not going back to the dungeons. Get out of the way, find us horses. We’ll kill her, I swear we will."

Henry nodded, his hands clenched into fists. "Horses, now."

"No," Carlos said clearly, finding courge from somewhere. He’d never really stood up to Max before but now was the time. He was a knight, time to be knightly. "You don’t deserve to be free, any of you. You made my life a misery, it’s only fair I return the favor."

"Look at you, being brave for the first time in your pathetic life," Max said. "Save it and get me what I want."

‘Get _me_ what _I_ want’, Carlos frowned, an idea poking at him. "How about I get you a horse and safe passage, Max? Just you, not Adam or Henry."

"Fine," Max replied softly. "Keep ‘em. They’re no use to me. Millstones round my neck, always have been, just like you."

"What?" Henry rounded on his father. "You’d abandon us? After everything we’ve done for you?"

"In a heartbeat," Max assured him, his eyes never leaving Carlos’ face.

"Don’t let him go, Carlos," Bernice said shrilly. "I’m all right."

"Silly girl," Max grinned silkily. "You won’t be all right if I move this blade half an inch. And believe me, I will, unless people start doing what I want, _right now_."

"Your Majesties, if we could help?" Clay stepped forward and spoke to the king and queen. "I’m sure Roque and I can resolve this with no bloodshed."

Edward moved backward before regaining his composure. "What exactly can you do?"

"A lot," Carlos said. Guilt was gnawing at him, he’d been the one who wanted Max here, he’d wanted to gloat, this was all his fault. Glaring at the man who had so plagued him, he said sharply, "How did you get in here?"

"You should pay your servants more," Adam replied. "They ran not long ago, screaming about magic and witches. I think they’d been at the royal wine store. Witches," he snorted, "no witches these days."

"You’re sure about that, are you?" Aisha said drily.

"Shut up, all of you," Clay said, his voice like honey poured over silk. His eyes found Carlos’. "If you want them dead I’ll do it."

"You’re not allowed," Carlos remembered the conversation about what fairies could and couldn’t do. The last thing he wanted was to get Clay into trouble with...whoever it was who gave him his orders.

"Technically, no. But this is different. You and Jacob...you’re like foot fungus. Hard to get rid of and you keep coming back. I’ll kill ‘em if you want."

"He means he likes the pair of you," Roque said, casting his eyes upward, obviously asking for strength. "Never known anyone make such a ham-fisted mess of saying it, though. ‘You’re like foot fungus’, honestly."

"Shut up!" Max cried, digging the knife deeper into Bernice’s neck. "Get what I want and get me out of here or she dies. Is that simple enough for you nitwits to understand?"

"No killing?" Clay looked at Carlos hopefully.

Carlos shook his head. If he ordered Max dead, what did that make him? A tyrant? Yes, it might be the kind of thing a king might have to do one day but he wasn’t a king, or a prince. He was a knight and all of a sudden he was fine with that.

"Fine," Clay huffed, rubbing his stubbled chin thoughtfully. "Ah, I’ve got it. Stand back everyone."

"What’re you going to do?" Jacob asked. "What about Bernice?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot." Clay snapped his fingers and Bernice vanished from Max’s grasp, reappearing next to Carlos a second later.

"You couldn’t have done that sooner?" she demanded angrily, her hand at her throat.

Clay cast her a slow smile and shrugged. "Just waitin’ for orders."

"Clay!" Carlos cried as Adam and Henry took to their heels and fled.

"Relax." Roque waved a hand. There was a small explosion and a lot of smoke but when it cleared, after much coughing and wafting of hands and the queen’s fan, two fat, clearly terrified mice sat quivering on the floor.

Max gave an incoherent yell of rage.

"Pipe down," Clay said lazily, "a minute ago you were willing to leave them here to face the music for your wrongdoing. Don’t get all ‘outraged father’ on me, I’ve seen that look for  real a hundred times."

"Too much information, Clay," Roque muttered. "What’re you gonna do?"

"Well, first of all I was going to do this..." Clay clapped his hands. Max froze in place, everything but his eyes as immobile as stone.

Carlos watched in almost horrified fascination, half glad Max was getting his comeuppance, half scared as to what Clay would do.

"And then I was going to do this..." Clay closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Some kind of gutteral, incomprehensible language came from his mouth, whatever the words meant, the mere sound of them sent cold fingers of fear racing down Carlos’ spine.

Max’s eyes grew wide and afraid as the words whipped up a whirlwind right there in the middle of the room.

Clay looked at it, waved it across to envelop Max, then slammed his palms together in a ringing slap. A ‘boom’ loud enough to make everyone clap their hands over their ears and a shower of black and gold sparks later, the wind subsided as though it had never been.

"Where’s Max?" Carlos yelled, his ears still reverberating with the noise. He had to lip-read Clay’s reply, everything was dull and muffled and incomprehensible.

"Somewhere where he won’t get into any more trouble."

"What?" Jake shouted, massaging his ears."What does that mean?"

"All right, first of all, everyone stop yelling, second, this is where Max is." Clay clicked his fingers again and a bizarre watery, oval shaped hole appeared before them.

At least Carlos called it a hole, he had no idea what it really was, but something other than the ballroom seemed to shimmer in its fluid depths, so he presumed it was a window into wherever Clay had sent Max.

They all peered intently at it, Jake took a step forward to get a closer look. As they watched, an image of a steep hill covered in lush green grass became more apparent. A small figure was toiling up the slope, clutching something to its chest. Carlos’ eyes widened as he recognized Max.

"What’s he holding?"

"Just wait," Clay sounded unbearably smug. "This’ll be good, trust me."

Carlos waited, holding his breath. What was Clay going to do? Have Max eaten by a dragon? Attacked by maurauding bandits? Turned into a frog by a pissed-off witch?

None of those things, apparently. As he clambered up the almost sheer slope, Max staggered and lost his grip on whatever he had pressed to his chest. As he slipped to his knees, a hundred tiny specks of gold flew out of his arms and bounced down the hill.

"Are those...coins?" King Edward asked, squinting at the portal.

"Yep," Clay rocked on his heels cheerfully. "He spent his years here lusting after riches, so I gave ‘em to him. Only rule is, he has to carry each and every piece of gold up that slope, in one go, before he can have it for his own."

"And I presume you’ve made sure he never reaches the top of the hill?" Jake asked.

"Greased the grass and everything," Clay grinned. "He’ll be there forever."

Carlos couldn’t take his eyes from the small figure now scrambling to collect the coins before they rolled all the way to the bottom of the hill. "That’s diabolical."

"I know." Clay’s smile grew as Roque laughed and slapped him on the back. The window shrank until, with a small ‘pop’, it vanished altogether.

"Nice work." Roque actually looked impressed.

"Thank you, I am pretty proud of it."

"So is that hill somewhere in this world or in another?"

"Netherworld," Clay explained. "In between this world and the next."

"The grey place you keep zapping us to?" Jake asked.

"No," Clay shook his head. "Different place."

"How many worlds between worlds are there?" Jake demanded, his hands on his hips. "Suddenly this kingdom’s feeling very small and insignificant."

"My thoughts exactly," the king frowned.

"Now, boys, don’t get all excited." Valentina flapped her hands in ‘pipe down’ gestures. "We should be thanking these...gentlemen for all their help, not berating them for your own size issues."

Carlos and Bernice both hastily turned laughs into coughs as the king and Jacob glared at them.

"Can we eat now?" Roque asked, gazing longing at the buffet. "There’s cake left over."

"Never let it be said we allow good food to go to waste," Jake murmured. "Help yourself. I don’t think anyone else will be coming back for seconds."

"The hysterical stories are probably all over the kingdom by now," Edward said, wearily rubbing his eyes. "Why did other kings get to have normal sons who just chose wives and didn’t get attacked by crazed witches at their birthday balls? Why didn’t I get one of those sons?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Jake grinned.

"Indeed," Edward smiled back. "And I didn’t mean I’d prefer a girl to you, Carlos. You suit Jacob better than anyone else I’ve ever met."

Jacob bounced on the balls of his feet and twined his fingers through Carlos’. "Mine, all mine. It’s official now."

Carlos watched him, still a little amazed that the fates had conspired to give him everything he could possibly have wished for.

"It is official," Edward said, "but I fear some people may raise the heir issue. We need to think about that and have an answer when questions start being asked."

"Well, unless you get Clay to turn one of us into a girl, we have a problem," Jake said. Carlos hid a grin as he hastily looked at Clay. "That wasn’t a request. I like us both the way we are, no soft squashy bits required."

Valentina yawned hugely, not bothering to stifle it. Carlos found himself doing the same a moment later.

"What do we do about her?" he nodded at Aisha.

"Throw her in the dungeon till we’re ready to pass sentence." King Edward sounded very firm.

Clay nodded, "Good choice. The protection spells already on the castle should hold her safely enough."

"Carlos, be so good as to round up whatever guards are left and get them in here to escort our guest home, would you?"

Carlos set off on his task. A small glow of something, was it pride, warmed his chest. He was a knight and the king trusted him to do things. He was also Jacob’s official consort.

A wave of light-headedness swept over him. What an evening. Suddenly tired beyond belief, he yawned again. While he was busy doing that, he walked into someone.

"Oh, sorry."

The young man he’d crashed into wobbled but didn’t fall.

Carlos frowned. "Aren’t you the man who danced with Bernice?"

It was indeed the tall, pale skinned fellow Bernice had followed onto the dance floor. "Is she all right?" he asked, wringing his hands. "I didn’t mean to leave her, but I got caught up in the crowd and there’s been such chaos outside, I only just managed to get back in."

"She’s fine," Carlos said, thinking of Max’s knife at her throat. "Um, I’m looking for some of the castle guards, have you seen any?"

The young man nodded. "They’re outside, they seem to have recovered their nerves and appear a little lost without someone to order them to do something."

"That would be me," Carlos said. As he strode off, he called over his shoulder. "Bernice will be out soon, just wait there and I’ll make sure she finds you."

***

After the intense excitement, fear, gut-wrenching worry and heart-stopping relief of the evening, it was a little of an anti-climax to see Aisha bundled into a cell deep beneath the castle. Clay and Roque couldn’t come near, but had given clear instructions as to what should be done in order to keep Aisha where she was supposed to be.

Carlos, Jake, Edward and Valentina stood on the moonlit road a mile from the castle, Clay and Roque grinned at them.

"If I were you, your Majesty," Clay said boldly, looking Edward in the eye, "I wouldn’t wait too long to decide what’s to be done with Aisha. She’s a wily one, I think. Sooner or later she’ll charm some brainless guard into letting her out. Better to deal with her now and be done with it."

Edward smoothed his fingers over his beard and pursed his lips. "Yes, I think you might be right. But, truth be told, I don’t have a lot of experience in dealing with witches who have recently tried to kill my son and sent him into a cursed sleep instead."

Carlos glanced at Jacob, amused that the habit of talking fast and constantly seemed to have passed directly from father to son.

"I’d normally say we’d take her," Clay said thoughtfully, "the Fae council should probably be the ones to judge her, as she used so much magic. But I’m a little reluctant to let her into our world, seeing as there’s magic _everywhere_ there. Somebody like her could do a lot of damage."

"So bind her powers," Roque said as though talking to an idiot. "How can you not have thought of that? Do I have to be the brains and the brawn of this operation?"

"All right, all right," Clay growled, shooting the bigger fairy a dirty look. "I was getting to that."

He turned back to the king and said brightly, "We could bind her powers, then hopefully she wouldn’t have access to any of the power in our realm. That way the council could judge her and deal with her properly, no offence but languishing in jail isn’t the right way to punish misuse of magic. The council are a little more...creative."

"Like you," Jake put in.

Clay smiled, obviously still proud of his slippery hill trick. "We need to head back to the council to replenish our magic, it’s too low to properly bind Aisha’s at the moment. If you can look after her till we get back, we’ll take her off your hands and leave you free to think about other things." He looked meaningfully at Carlos.

Oh yes, the thorny heir issue. Carlos rubbed his eyes, they’d deal with that in the morning. Right now all he wanted was to stumble to bed and sleep for a week.

King Edward must have been feeling the same, for he stifled a yawn and said, "Fine, go and do whatever it is you need to do. Carlos, let the guards know nobody is to go near that woman’s cell. Jacob, I have no idea what you need to do now but I’m sure there’s something. My Lady," he held out an arm to the queen. "let us retire to bed."

"Excellent idea," Valentina smiled at them all. "I know tonight hasn’t been the most uneventful of birthday balls, but, it’s been a memorable one at least."

Jacob laughed and kissed her on the cheek. "Always finding the upside. ‘Night, Mother."

"Good night, dear." She brushed a kiss over Carlos’ cheek as well. "Sleep well, both of you." Turning away with a wink, she linked her arm through her husband’s and led him toward the castle.

"My mother just winked at us," Jacob said wonderingly. "She knows we’re about to go to bed together. I think I need to wash my brain."

"You do that and I’ll head down to the dungeons to let the guards know not to go near Aisha," Carlos yawned again as he spoke. This being a knight stuff was exhausting.

"I’ll get the bed warm," Jake grinned.

"Leaving now," Clay said loudly. "I might have been instrumental in getting the two of you together but I’m damned if I want to hear you talking about bed."

"Jealous?" Jake asked innocently.

"Something slimy, boy," Clay reminded him. "That’s what you’ll end up as."

"Promises, promises," yawned Jacob. "All right, bed now. Wake me before you take Aisha, all right?"

"It’ll be a while before we come back," Clay said. "Time works differently in the Fae lands. We’ll be as fast as we can."

With a quick, final wave, he and Roque turned and walked away from Carlos and Jake, vanishing into the night before they’d gone a dozen paces.

"Don’t go near Aisha," Carlos said, looking at Jake. "Please?" Locked up she might be, but he doubted she was helpless.

"Only place I’m going is to bed," Jake replied, yawning again. "Don’t take too long with the guards?"

"I’ll be there soon," Carlos promised. As tired as he was, it would be a shame to allow their first night as prince and official consort to go to waste.

Jake nodded and stumbled off in the direction of his, no, _their_ , rooms.

A smile tugged at Carlos’ mouth as he made his way to the dungeons. Something in his gut had unclenched as he swung his sword at Aisha. Yes, he’d been half mad with grief but at the same time, it had almost been liberating to just give in and accept his role as a proper knight. What had he been thinking before, had he been jealous of the extra power Jake’s title gave him? No, not really.

It was more that he’d wanted desperately to be a good knight, to live up the the name, but hadn’t known how. A sinking feeling that he was utterly out of his depth, trying to keep above water with rocks tied to his ankles, had dogged him since he’d come to the castle. Now that feeling faded slightly. Carlos’ sword tapped on the stone steps as he carefully climbed down them to the depths of the cells beneath the place he now called home.

He was a knight, in love with a prince. Everyone knew now. Whether they liked it or not, there was nothing they could do about it. Jacob was his. His heart impossibly light, Carlos almost skipped into the dungeons.

　

　


	18. Chapter 18

Two weeks later...

"Married? So soon?" Carlos’ eyebrows shot upwards.

Bernice smiled. "Yep. Why wait? Alyn’s wonderful."

"Oh, it’s _Alyn_ , now, is it?" Carlos retorted. "That didn’t take long."

"Well, I’m hardly going to keep calling him Mister Marsh, am I?" she shot back. "Could you at least pretend to be happy for me?"

"I am happy, Bern," Carlos said, chastened. "Sorry." Pulling her close, he kissed her cheek. "I’m glad you found someone."

"So am I," Bernice said simply. "He waited for me, you know. At the ball. He got caught up in the crowd but he came back and found me. Nobody’s ever really cared that much about me before. Well, except for you. But then you’ve always been a bit of a hero, haven’t you?"

"Not me," Carlos grinned ruefully. "Considering I spent over a decade getting beaten up by Max."

"You’re a hero," she said, her eyes hot and fierce. "Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You survived Max when a lot of other people would just have given in. And you saved Jacob from the sleeping curse, if that doesn’t make you a hero, I don’t know what does. You attacked the crazed witch with nothing but a sword. Very gallant and knightly of you."

"I still don’t know why I could get through her shield," Carlos said, frowning. They were walking slowly through the pasture near Bernice’s house. Firefly trailed behind them, snatching a lazy mouthful of grass here and there.

"Maybe you did magic, too," Bernice suggested.

"How would I do magic, I don’t know how," Carlos said.

"I don’t know," Bernice stuck her tongue out at him. "Just trying to help."

They walked on in silence for a moment.

"Maybe it was because you thought Jacob was dead."

Carlos looked up at the sky, reluctant to remember those awful moments when his world had fallen apart.

"Perhaps that gave you some extra power or something," Bernice said quietly. "Maybe, just for a minute, you didn’t care whether you lived or not. Love’s powerful, isn’t it? Maybe that gave you more oomph that Aisha wasn’t expecting."

"Hmm," Carlos pursed his lips. "I don’t know." He wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know. Those few minutes of thinking Jacob was gone were the worst of his life.

"So, anyway," Bernice briskly changed the subject. "How are you enjoying being with Jacob officially? You’ve got a new nickname, you know. People are calling you Cougar."

"Why?" Carlos screwed up his face.

"Because you fight like a wildcat apparently," Bernice grinned and tickled his ribs. "So now you’re Cougar, the Prince’s Knight."

The Prince’s Knight. Carlos smiled, well that part was true at least.

"When’s Aisha leaving?" Bernice’s face was serious all of a sudden. "Soon, I hope. That woman being anywhere near you and Jacob sets my teeth on edge."

"Clay and Roque are coming for her," Carlos replied, still thinking about his new name. "They’ll send word when they want her brought outside the castle."

"Be careful," Bernice pleaded, catching hold of his tunic. "Don’t give her an inch of leeway, she’ll try more magic, I know it. She’s evil."

 

"I know, I know," Carlos replied, trying to wrest his clothes from her grip. "Don’t worry, everything will be all right."

Bernice didn’t look convinced.

"So when’s the wedding?" Carlos asked, anxious to see a smile on her face again. "Am I invited?"

"If you don’t come I’ll never speak to you again."

Carlos laughed. Maybe things were slowly sorting themselves out. If Bernice got her happy ending, perhaps everyone else would too. Only time would tell, though.

***

Clay and Roque arrived back just as autumn was beginning to give way to winter.

"Took you long enough," Jake called to him as he and Carlos strode out of the castle gates. "We thought you were never coming back."

"Time moves differently in our world, I told you," Clay said, utterly unconcerned. "And humans are impatient."

Jake glared, Roque smirked and Carlos once again stepped in as peacemaker.

"What do we do with Aisha? Have you got a plan for dealing with her?" He didn’t add that most of the guards had started refusing to go near her cell. She tended to smile at them in an incredibly unsettling way. She didn’t smile at Carlos, so he’d been the one taking her most of her meals.

"Yes, we have a plan," Clay said soothingly. "Just get her out here and we can bind her powers, then she’ll be as human as you. After that we take her to the Elders, I think they’re annoyed with her for outing magic here."

Carlos wondered whether technically, Clay and Roque hadn’t outed it first, but held his tongue.

"I hope they have as good an end cooked up for her as you came up with for Max," Jake said, his mouth a grim line.

"They’re pretty inventive," Clay replied. "I’m sure they’ll have something special in mind." He looked at Carlos. "You ready to bring her out?"

Carlos nodded even though his stomach was a mass of quivering nerves again. Cougar, the Prince’s Knight wasn’t afraid of Aisha but Carlos, the former farmboy, was.

***

Aisha looked up disinterestedly as Carlos opened her cell door.

"Time to go," he said, hoping short and to the point would do the job of getting her moving.

"What?" She slid smoothly to her feet, a small smile on her face. "But I was so enjoying it here. I hate to leave."

Carlos didn’t reply, in his mind’s eye he could still see Jake, limp and lifeless on the ballroom floor. Exchanging words with the witch responsible for that seemed a little like forgiving her, and he wasn’t about to do that.

"Move."

"Very well," Aisha gave a theatrical sigh as she looked around the cell. "I shall miss this place. Quite the home from home, don’t you think?" She turned a cold smile on Carlos. "And you’ve been so helpful in looking after me. I feel I should repay you for your kindness."

"Go," Carlos said, more loudly. They were only words, he reminded himself, only words from a defeated witch. Nothing to worry about. That smile of hers sent chills running through him though. There was no warmth behind her eyes, only calculating ice. She would have killed Jake, Carlos realized. If she’d managed to marry him, she truly would have killed him and siezed power for herself. There was no goodness in her, she’d act in her own best interests without a shred of thought for anyone else.

She chuckled softly as she eased past him, out of door into the narrow stone corridor beyond. "You think I’m evil, don’t you?"

Again, Carlos didn’t reply.

Aisha shrugged. "No matter. I do what I must, same as you." Her eyes slid sideways to rest on him, dark and fathomless. "You ruined my plans." Twisting her finger into a loose thread of his jacket, she leaned closer. "I’ll repay you for that one day."

"Move, witch." Carlos found his voice and was glad to hear he sounded like Cougar the brave knight.

Aisha sighed again and walked ahead of him to the heavy door at the end of the corridor.

Glancing back she said, "Don’t forget about me, brave Cougar. I’ll come back one day. When you least expect it. I always pay my debts and I owe you something for taking dear Jacob away. I’ll make sure it’s something suitable."

Drawing his sword, Carlos poked her none too gently in the back. "Did I say to stop moving? Just go before I rethink handing you over to Clay alive and in one piece."

She laughed, tinkling bells in the dank half-light. "Oh, the cat has claws." Her eyes moved to the sword. "Well, one claw. I’m so frightened."

His patience running out, Carlos pushed her forward, making her stumble on the uneven floor. "Just go, for the love of all the fairies. I have no wish to share any more words with you."

"We don’t always get what we wish," Aisha whispered, just loud enough for Carlos to hear.

Her words made frost form in his heart. What exactly was she capable of?

***

Clay smiled as Aisha swaggered toward him and Roque. Carlos rolled his eyes as he saw how Clay’s gaze lingered on her a little too long. Damn. He’d forgotten that Clay was an idiot as far as women were concerned. Surely he’d have sense enough to stay away from her though, wouldn’t he?

Jake was standing a few feet away, a look of pure disgust clouding his face. Poking Aisha one more time with the tip of his sword, Carlos moved to stand beside him, their shoulders touching.

"All right?" Jake asked softly, not taking his eyes from Aisha.

"Fine," Carlos replied.

Clay didn’t bother with fancy words, a fool with women he might be but he knew danger when he saw it, or at least Carlos hoped he did.

"Aisha of al-Fadhil," Clay said in his deep, rumbling voice, the one which sounded older than the land around them. "I speak for the land of Fae and the Council. You are summoned to be punished for your crimes."

He clasped one hand to Roque’s, a bright blue glow suddenly surrounded them. Aisha’s eyes widened and she tried to back away but Carlos moved forward, his sword pricking at her back again.

Clay nodded to Roque and murmured, "Thank you."

Roque released Clay’s hand and glared at Aisha. Carlos noticed sweat now beaded the big fairy’s brow. Presumably they were binding her powers, maybe it took a lot of effort.

Muttering something under his breath, Clay touched Aisha’s hand. Blue light flared, almost blinding Carlos. Jacob threw up his hands and looked away. Carlos forced himself to watch.

Aisha’s eyes were squeezed shut in pain, her mouth open, screaming silently. Clay was shaking, sweat also poured down his cheeks. But he held on to her hand, his eyes never leaving her face.

After what seemed like an eternity, Clay released Aisha and staggered backwards. Roque caught and steadied him. Aisha collapsed to the ground, twitching and moaning pitifully.

"Did you do it?" Jake asked breathlessly. "Can she do magic any longer?"

Clay shook his head wearily. "No. All bound away. Get her up, will you, Roque?"

His nose wrinkled in distaste, Roque pulled Aisha to her feet. She was still gasping for breath and seemed to be hovering on the edge of unconsciousness. Roque blew a short, exasperated snort out of his nose and heaved her over his shoulder. She hung limply against his broad back like a rag doll.

"Can we go home now?" he demanded of Clay.

Clay grinned. "I think we should."

"Will you ever come back?" Carlos spoke without meaning to. "Um, I mean, will we...can you come visit?"

"You want us to?" Clay chuckled. "Don’t you think that’d be a little dangerous, given how much trouble we’re capable of causing?"

"A little trouble now and then isn’t so bad," Jake said thoughtfully. "Livens up the atmosphere."

"Good point," Clay conceded. "Maybe we’ll come back one day, just to see how you’re getting on. And to find out how you plan to get past the issue of Carlos not being a girl."

Carlos winced. The heir thing again. He’d been deliberately not thinking about that, whenever he did his imagination supplied him with images of Jacob being forced to bed women in the hopes of getting a royal heir from one of them.

Jake shoved his chin up defiantly. "We’ll be fine. We’ll work something out."

"I’m sure you will," Clay chuckled, then held his ribs. "Ow. Binding powers is painful, remind me never to do it again."

"You can’t do it without me to lend you some extra oomph," Roque put in.

"True," Clay nodded. "Guess I’d better keep you, then. How do you feel about working with me all the time?"

Roque stared at Clay for a moment. "Yeah, why not. Somebody’s got to make sure you think with your head and not your..."

"Thank you," Jake broke in hurriedly. "We get the idea."

Clay chuckled again. "We’d better get moving before she starts to wake up and gets pissy." He held out a hand. "It was good to meet you, both of you. This job was definitely more...interesting than I imagined it would be."

Carlos shook hands first, then Jake.

"Thank you," Carlos said, feeling intensely awkward. "Um, for everything, I suppose."

Clay shook his head. "We didn’t actually do that much. All you two needed was a few pushes in the right direction now and again. True love, don’t forget." He pointed a finger at each of them in turn. "Do not squander it. If you do I’ll be forced to come back and kick both of your asses. Won’t we, Roque?"

"Oh, yes, that’s right, get me to do your dirty work for you," Roque grumbled.

"What else are helpers for?" Clay grinned. His eyes lingered on Aisha’s ass, as she was still slung over Roque’s shoulder, it was pretty much on his eye level. "We should go."

"Clay?" Jake said, looking as though he wished he could stop himself saying the words coming out of his mouth. "Far be it from me to give you romantic advice but don’t get involved with her." He nodded at Aisha, "She’s crazy. Not even the fun kind of crazy, you know, tie you up in bed and sit on your...you know. She’s the kind who’ll go to bed with you and kill you after you sleep with her. She’s a Black Widow. She’s not worth the effort, right, Carlos?"

"Right," Carlos croaked, his brain still silently melting at the words, ‘tie you up in bed’, coming from Jake.

Roque gave Clay a ‘see? I told you!’ expression. Clay shrugged unconcernedly.

"Whatever happens, happens. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself."

"I beg to differ," Roque growled.

"Oh pipe down," Clay frowned. "You should be thanking her for one thing at least. Blue wings now, remember? No more pink."

Roque made an ‘hmm’ noise, but looked rather pleased about the whole matter.

"Blue is good," Carlos said quickly. "Thank you for your help, too, Roque."

"Oh," Roque seemed taken aback to be thanked.

Carlos understood how he felt, people being nice to him was still a shock sometimes.

"Um, no problem," the big godfather muttered, shifting Aisha’s limp form again. "Like Clay said, don’t screw up what you’ve got."

"Got it," Jake grinned and reached for Carlos’ hand.

"All right then." Clay smiled. "Now we’ve all professed how much we love each other, we’ll leave. See ya."

With a final wave he turned and started off down the road which led from the castle. Roque nodded one last time, then followed him. Aisha’s long dark hair hung down his back, she still looked more or less unconscious. Carlos hoped she didn’t come round till they were safely back into the Fae lands.

"What do you think they’ll do with her?" Jake said quietly.

"Lock her up forever?" Carlos guessed, then shrugged. "I don’t really care, ‘long as she can’t hurt anyone again."

"Seconded."

They turned and walked slowly back up to the castle gates. The men on guard saluted as they passed. It still shocked Carlos to think they were saluting him as well as Jacob.

"You think your father will ever forgive us for not telling him about Clay and Roque?"

Jake sighed. "Hopefully. I was thinking we could go hunting, maybe find him a deer or something. You know, sweeten him up a little?"

"Sounds like a plan," Carlos agreed. "Should we go now?"

"No time like the present, is there?" Jake said.

"I’ll go get my bow and get changed." Carlos quickened his pace. "Meet you at the stables?"

Jake nodded.

As Carlos trotted over the cobbles toward the main castle buildings, he heard Jake say behind him, "Thank you, too. For waking me up. And for...you know...wanting me."

Carlos stopped and turned, then walked back to Jacob. "Anytime," he smiled. "And, believe me, I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you."

He kissed his prince, right there in full view of everyone going in and out of the castle. The world slowed until it moved to the rhythm of their combined heartbeats. Jacob’s hands were warm and solid on Carlos’ back. He’d never had a home before, not a real one. But, Carlos supposed, the old saying was true. Home is where your heart is, and his would forever be with Jake.

Carlos smiled against Jacob’s mouth. Maybe happy endings did exist after all.


	19. Epilogue

"Do you ever wonder what happened to Adam and Henry?" Carlos asked one night as they lay in bed, listening to the sounds of the castle going to sleep around them.

"Not really," mumbled Jake, throwing an arm across Carlos’ chest. "I just hope the cats around the Fountain Villa were good mouse catchers."

Carlos smiled and rubbed at the back of Jake’s neck, making him arch and moan softly. "Tense."

"Been working with Father all day," Jake said against his shoulder. "’m’exhausted. Being king is ninety percent paperwork."

"You’ll be good at it," Carlos said, rubbing harder at the knots he could feel in Jacob’s shoulders. "I’ll help."

His reading still wasn’t perfect but it was far better than it had been when Jake first started teaching him.

Digging a thumb into a stubborn patch of muscle elicited a groan from Jacob. "Damn, you’re good at this. I’ll promote you to Knight in charge of massage. You can have lackeys and everything, just promise to do this once in a while."

"I’ll do it anyway," Carlos smiled, clambering to his knees and pushing Jake face first onto the pillows. "Lie still for a minute."

The rhythm of pushing his fingers into Jake’s tightly coiled muscles, then smoothing a hand over them to hopefully release the tension was slightly hypnotic. Carlos lost himself in it a for a while, focused on nothing more than turning Jacob in a puddle of utterly relaxed gloop.

"You’ve got that look," Jake mumbled into the pillow.

"What look?"

"The one you get when you’re hunting. Like you’re not thinking about anything else in the world apart from how your bow feels in your hand."

"Oh. How do you know? You’re looking at a pillow."

"Woman’s intuition."

Carlos gently slapped Jake’s hip.

Jake laughed. "All right, I know ‘cause I’ve seen you do it before, especially when you’re looking at me." He coughed, "Um, it’s kind of hot. I notice these things."

Leaning forward, Carlos pressed a kiss to the small of Jake’s back. Jake sighed happily and wriggled his hips. "You tired?"

"Never too tired for that," Carlos replied with a grin.

Jacob turned over, his cheeks were flushed and pink and his eyes sparkled. "This is good. I’m glad..." he frowned. "How to say this without sounding like a complete girl. Um. You’re good. You and me are good. I think so, anyway. I’m glad you’re here. You make things better."

He tugged at Carlos’ shoulder, pulling him down into a lingering kiss.

"Are you all right?" Carlos asked when he could breathe again. "Not that I don’t appreciate the words, but, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing." Jacob looked away.

Carlos waited silently, knowing Jake wouldn’t be able to stand the quiet for long.

"Fine," Jake sighed after a moment of silence. "Mother mentioned the heir thing again today."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Seems it’s the done thing for a prince to produce an heir to the throne within a year of choosing a bride."

Carlos did some quick mental arithmetic. "It’s been nearly a year since the ball. Are people getting restless?"

"People are always restless," Jake said ruefully. "Now they’re just getting worried, I think. Mother says the nobles are starting to use words like ‘civil war’ and ‘usurper’. They think if I for some reason die without an heir, there’ll be anarchy as people try to fight it out to proclaim themselves king."

"Hmm," Carlos sat back on Jake’s thighs. "That’s probably about right."

"I can name you heir." Jake was very carefully looking at the drapes on the other side of the room.

"No," Carlos said when he got his breath back. What was Jake thinking? "I’m not a king and never will be. I’m a knight. Don’t make me into anything else. Don’t have the temperament to rule anyone."

"You’ve got the perfect temperament," Jake snorted. "You’re in charge of the knights, they love you."

"Because I take them drinking and hunting," Carlos reminded him. "They’d love anyone if he gave them something to do."

"True," Jacob conceded. "Which reminds me, Mother said Knight Ingbert got himself caught trying to climb her ladies’ tower again. The man’s desperate to catch a glimpse of those girls getting undressed. Just send him to a brothel, will you?"

"I’ll pay for it if it keeps him out of trouble," Carlos said through gritted teeth. "He’s a liability."

"And he’s all yours," Jake grinned wickedly. Carlos nipped at his neck in retaliation. "Seriously, I could name you heir."

"Don’t," Carlos replied. "Please."

"Then what do we do?" Jake sighed. He ran his fingers down Carlos’ back and lightly gripped his hips.

"I don’t know." Carlos really did wish an answer to their predicament would present itself, even though the idea of children somewhat terrified him. "We’ll think of something."

Jake grunted noncommittally.

Carlos looked down at himself and grimaced. "Think the mood’s passed."

Jacob glanced at Carlos’ groin too and sighed again. "Damn."

***

A few days later they were out hunting when Carlos held up a hand. "Wait, can you hear something?"

Jacob listened. "You mean apart from the wind and the rustling in the undergrowth of the animals we’re not currently catching? No."

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Listen properly."

"I am," Jake grumbled but listened again. A moment later, he sat up straighter in his saddle. "Was that...did I hear...what did you hear?"

Carlos looked baffled but replied, "I thought it was a baby but I could be wrong."

A louder, more insistent wail reached Jacob’s ears. "Nope, you’re not wrong." Urging his horse forward a few more steps, he looked around, trying to pinpoint exactly where the noise was coming from.

Carlos slid down from his own mount and poked around in the low bushes. Suddenly he froze. "Jacob."

Jake instantly dismounted and moved to stand beside him. If Carlos called him ‘Jacob’ in that tone of voice, things were serious.

"Oh."

"Exactly."

"Is it real?"

"What?"

"Poke it with a stick or something."

Carlos shook his head in despair. "It’s a baby, Jake, I’m not poking it with a stick." Pushing ferns and soft leaves aside, he gazed at the chubby baby lying wrapped in a pale green blanket. "What’s it doing here?"

"Are you seriously asking me like I’m supposed to have an answer?" Jake slapped the back of Carlos’ head.

"Sword training later," Carlos said calmly. "I dare you to fight me."

Jake winced. He couldn’t back down from a dare but Carlos was getting to be dangerously good with a sword. An ignominious defeat was all but inevitable.

"Are you gonna pick it up?" he asked instead, hoping to divert Carlos’ attention.

"Do you think we should?"

"Maybe?"

"What if someone left it here and means to come back later?"

"I don’t think you can do that with babies."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Carlos stood up, wiping his hands on his breeches. "Well, what _are_ we going to do with it?"

Jake took a deep breath. "For starters, pick it up, it’ll be getting cold down there on the ground." He looked expectantly at Carlos, who glared stonily back. "Fine, I’ll pick up the baby because the brave knight is too scared."

Shoving Carlos aside, he kneeled down and reached for the blanket-wrapped bundle. It was heavier than he expected, although very wriggly. Gripping it tightly, he gathered it into his arms and stood up.

Carlos was watching him with a peculiar expression on his face.

"What?" Jake demanded. "Don’t even think about telling me I’m holding it wrong, considering you wouldn’t do it at all."

Carlos shook his head and didn’t reply.

Shifting the bundle in his arms, Jake looked down at it and twitched the blanket aside. A pair of liquid brown eyes peered up at him. Catching his breath, he glanced at Carlos and saw the same eyes staring back. "Um..."

Carlos’ eyebrows rose as he looked at the now squirming baby. "It’s got hair like you."

"My hair doesn’t look like that," Jake said, aghast. "That looks like a haystack..." Carlos smirked at him. "I hate you."

"It looks like you," Carlos screwed up his face and tilted his head to one side.

"Don’t be ridiculous," Jake snapped. "How on earth could it look like me? It’s a random baby we found on the ground..."

He stopped as a small piece of parchment fluttered out of the folds of the blanket. Carlos picked it up and smoothed it out. Jake watched his eyes move as he read whatever was written on it. Then Carlos’ jaw dropped.

"What? What does it say?" Jake demanded, trying to shift the baby to one arm so that he could grab the parchment. The infant decided he, or she, or whatever it was, didn’t like such sudden movement and let out a wail which made Jake’s ears ring. "Ow. That can’t be normal, no kid can have lungs like that."

Carlos was still staring at the parchment, his eyes huge and round.

"What does it say?" Jake cried again, trying to hold on to the wriggling baby, who had now decided to try to squirm its way back to the ground. "Child, keep doing that and I’ll put you back where I found you."

Carlos wet his lips and sniffed. "It says..." he rubbed his eyes, "...it says, ‘Don’t bother to thank us, we’re only too glad to help. Good luck, you’ll need it. Your favorite fairy godfathers, Clay and Roque.’ I don’t believe this."

Jake stared at Carlos for a second. "What? Read it again, you missed something. No, better still, let me read it. Here, take the kid."

Carlos backed away. "Oh no, you picked it up, you can keep it. And I can read just as well as you now, I didn’t miss anything. I think..." he shook his head as though he’d just taken a punch, "I think this is Clay’s way of trying to solve the heir issue."

"But...how?" Jake stared down at the baby in his arms, who was now happily sucking on a corner of the blanket. "What did he...is this...can they _do_ things like this with magic? Is this kid...no, it couldn’t be, there’s no way even Clay could have done this."

"It’s got your hair and your mouth," Carlos said slowly.

"And your eyes and nose," Jake added.

"Only Clay could have done this," Carlos said. "Maybe he just found a kid who looks a little like both of us or else he _made_ one."

"Either way, it does kind of solve the sticky issue of who I name as heir, doesn’t it?"

"Is that legal?" Carlos frowned. "Can you just decide a baby you found in the woods is your heir?"

"I’m going to, whether people say I can or not," Jake replied grimly, holding onto the baby a little tighter.

Carlos’ eyes softened.

"What?" Jake demanded.

"Nothing," a smile pulled at Carlos’ mouth. "Just...you look, kind of good."

"Are you going all maternal on me?"

"Considering I’m not a woman, no."

"You’re going soft, though. I can see it, you’re liking the ‘being a father’ idea."

"Don’t say things like that." Carlos visibly shuddered.

"I know," Jake wrinkled his nose. "Damn, I just scared myself. I’m too young to be a father. If we keep this kid, I’ll turn into _my_ father, I can see it now."

"Long as you do a better job than Max, you’ll be great," Carlos muttered, poking a finger into the blankets. "Hey, look, he can hold things." The baby had caught his finger and was sucking enthusiastically on it. When it yielded no milk, another ear-splitting wail rent the air.

"All right, I think we need to go home right now and ask my mother what in the name of everything magical we’re supposed to do with a kid who won’t stop crying," Jake made for his horse, then stopped. "How am I supposed to ride with this in my arms?"

"Get on and I’ll hand him to you," Carlos nodded, agreeing with his own suggestion.

"Tell you what," Jake said briskly, not seeing why he should become the honorary girl just because he was the one who’d picked the kid up in the first place. "You’re the sure-handed knight. You get on and _I’ll_ hand him up to _you_."

Carlos opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut again with a click of teeth. Climbing up into his saddle, he reached down for the baby and settled it awkwardly on his lap. "If I drop him, it’s your fault."

"Fine," Jake swung himself onto his own horse and wheeled her around. "I’ll go on ahead and let Mother know what’s going on."

"Do that and you sleep on the floor for a month," Carlos hissed. "Do not leave me alone with this."

"He’s not a ‘this’, he’s a ‘he’," Jake replied, peering into the folds of the blanket at the mystery child. "Actually, it could be a ‘she’."

"Whatever," Carlos said, then frowned. "Oh. Damn. That’s just...oh no."

"What?" Jake urged his horse forward, staring at the baby concernedly. "What’s wrong? Is he all right?"

"I think his bowels are fine," Carlos said stiffly. "He just peed on me, too. My tunic’s wet now. Shit."

"Don’t say that in front of him," Jake said. "You’ll teach him bad habits." He stroked a finger across the silky forehead in the crook of Carlos’ elbow. "Ignore Knight Daddy, he’s using naughty words."

"I will kill you," Carlos promised. "And no more sex. Ever."

Jake smiled, that was one threat Carlos would never carry out and they both knew it. "Come on, then. Let’s go get Knight Cougar Daddy cleaned up."

"Stop calling me that!" Carlos sounded a little panicked.

Jake relented and rested a hand on Carlos’ shoulder. "Sorry. Are you all right with this? I mean, this is Clay’s idea so it’s obviously not going to go smoothly, but it’s better than any other option for finding an heir, isn’t it? At least this way nobody can say I’m playing favorites, choosing an heir from a family I know, we don’t know who this kid is. He could be anyone."

He didn’t add, ‘and at least this way I don’t have to go and sleep with a girl in the hopes of getting her pregnant’, knowing how hurtful it would have been to Carlos.

"Yeah," Carlos sniffed. "Yeah, I’m all right with this. It’s good for the kid as well, isn’t it? If he stayed out here alone he’d be...well, he wouldn’t survive, would he? We’re doing a good thing, even if Clay is forcing us into it. Sneaky bastard."

"Again with the naughty words." Jake smacked Carlos’ arm. "How is it I seem to be the responsible parent here?"

"The world is a very messed up place," Carlos replied. "Right, we need to go, whatever he’s done is seeping through my tunic."

Jake laughed, then gagged as the wind turned and carried the smell of the baby’s dirty diaper to him. "Oh, wow, that really is bad. Yes, we have to go right now."

***

Queen Valentina knew how to hide surprise, Carlos gave her that much. When confronted by her son, his consort (wearing an incredibly smelly tunic) and a random, unknown baby, she merely blinked and offered them tea.

"So, let me get this straight, oh, Carlos, dear, would you like to borrow a spare shirt? I’m sure I have one of Jacob’s around here somewhere, just ask one of the girls, they’ll find it for you."

She smiled and turned back to the baby, who was now squirming on Jake’s lap. "You found this little one in the forest, all alone, with a note from that rather tasty godfather person?"

"Mother!" Jake said, sounding horrified. "You can’t describe Clay as ‘tasty’, he’s four hundred years old."

"Well aged," Valentina smiled calmly. "And looking good, despite the mileage." She waggled her eyebrows, making Carlos snort with laughter.

"But, tasty fairy godfathers aside, this baby is a, for want of a better word, solution to your problem?" She looked back at Jacob, shrewd and sharp.

"Apparently," Jake nodded. "But...what do we do with it?  We don’t know anything about kids."

"And you think I do?" Valentina laughed. "Nobody knows anything about children until they have them, dear. It’s on the job training at its most terrifying."

"Can we just keep him, though?" Carlos asked, gratefully pulling on the clean shirt one of the maids handed him. "Don’t we need to go through some kind of, I don’t know, official process or something? Can Jake just name him heir?"

"Surprisingly, yes, you can just do that," Valentina replied. "And I think you should. It would quiet the people who are starting to mutter about there not being anyone to take over in the unhappy event of your demise, Jacob. And it would solidify your position, Carlos."

"Would it?" Carlos asked, then felt like an idiot. If the queen said it would, it would.

"Yes, dear," she said patiently. "You’d be father to the heir to the throne, not just the prince’s consort. Consorts have been put aside before now, but with a little one in the picture, you’d be more of a force to be reckoned with."

"I’d never put Carlos aside," Jake said, sounding almost angry.

"I know that," Valentina smiled. "But if anything happened to you, others would try to push him out of the way and seize power for themselves. With an heir to look after, he’d be a lot more difficult to get rid of."

"So, we’re keeping the little guy, then," Jake grinned at Carlos. "If you feel up to it."

Carlos took a deep breath. Of all the ways he’d ever imagined becoming a father, this had never factored into his plans. But Jake’s face was shining and his eyes were as blue as ever. Almost against his will, Carlos found himself smiling back. "Yes, all right, then."

"Wonderful," Valentina cried. "I’m a grandmother, how about that? Oh, someone should really tell your father, Jacob. Send a messenger, would you, Carlos dear? Just tell Edward to re-learn how to do diapers, that’ll bring him here at a smart trot."

"You’ll help with the...I mean, the diapers and the...baby stuff," Jake nodded at the little one on his lap, who was still for the moment. "Please?"

"We’ll help but only up to a point," Valentina replied firmly.

Carlos shot Jake a worried glance. What did that mean?

"We’ll give advice and help out when you two need to go hunting and whatnot, but the bulk of the basic looking after of the boy is down to you," Valentina went on. "Nightly feeds, changing of dirty clothes, washing the child, all that kind of thing."

Jake turned his best puppy dog eyes on his mother. She gazed calmly back. Carlos couldn’t quite believe it. Nobody could withstand those eyes, not even him.

"You wanted the child, you’ll have the responsibility which goes with it," the queen said. "It’s good training for looking after a kingdom, believe me."

"But I had nannies and things," Jacob protested.

"When you were old enough to need someone to teach you more things than I could manage, yes," Valentina agreed serenely. "But when you were a baby, your father and I, well, mostly I, looked after you." She looked sharply at her son, then turned to Carlos. "If you don’t want the responsibility, send the child to an orphanage, it’ll be well cared for."

"No," Carlos and Jake said at the same time.

"I mean," Carlos rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to find the right words. "Um, Clay left this little one for us, I think. It’d be wrong not to take him, wouldn’t it?"

The queen smiled. "Spoken like a true knight, dear."

"What he said," Jake put in, then winced as the child wailed again. "Mother, what does he want? Can you ask him or something? Maybe he’ll respond better to you." He held out the wriggling bundle hopefully.

"Oh no, you’re his daddy." Valentina fended Jake off. "You’ll need to learn what different cries mean. Right now I’d say he’s hungry. Just this once I’ll send one of the girls to get him some milk from the kitchens. And he’ll need clean clothes and diapers." She clapped her hands. "This is going to be fun!"

Carlos and Jake shared a glance. Fun, huh? Well, that remained to be seen.

"What’s his name?" Valentina looked expectantly between them. "Did Clay happen to mention that small fact or will he forever be the Nameless Prince?"

"Um..." Carlos raised both eyebrows at Jake. "I don’t know."

"Well let’s start with something simple," Valentina said kindly. "It is a boy, isn’t it? You keep calling him ‘he’, so I presume you’ve checked."

Jake guiltily chewed at his lip.

Valentina pressed a hand to her forehead, "I’m developing a headache and more wrinkles by the minute, I know it. Would you care to check whether you have a new prince or princess?"

"Carlos," Jake smiled hopefully.

"Why should I do it?" Carlos backed away. "You’re the one who picked him up."

"Only because you were too scared to do it," Jake shot back. "Big, brave knight indeed. Ha!"

"Oh, stop squabbling," the queen snapped. "I’ll do it. Boy or girl, I’m their grandmother, I can stand it."

Jake handed her the bundle of baby and blanket with a glowing, grateful smile.

"Hello, little one," Valentina gazed at the baby.

Carlos felt something odd twist his stomach. It was almost like the feeling he got when Jake smiled at him in the secret, private way he did sometimes, but not quite the same. Now it was kind of a rush of some emotion or other, was it because of the baby?

One glance at Jake’s face told him that he was feeling the same thing. Carlos pressed a hand to his stomach and took a few deep breaths. Were they a family now? It was a dizzying, terrifying, intoxicating thought. A real, proper family with people he actually cared about, or in Jake’s case, loved with a passion which surprised even him.

"A boy, you were right," Valetina announced, shaking Carlos out of his reverie. "He still needs a name, though. But," she held up a hand, "don’t decide right now, names need thinking about. You’ve got time, think of a good one for him."

Carlos wondered how she managed to balance a child on one arm and resolved to ask her at the first opportunity. Now was not that opportunity as she stood and calmly tipped the little one into his arms. He barely muffled a curse as he struggled to grip the squirming mass of baby and blanket.

To her credit, Valentina didn’t laugh at him. Instead she said, "You two sit and get to know my grandson. I’ll go and harrass some people into giving you clothes and diapers and the thousand other things you you’ll need. And I’ll hunt down your father, Jacob, he seems to have taken to grandparenthood with his usual aplomb and has hidden somewhere, probably the wine cellar."

She swept off, her maids and ladies in waiting trying frantically to keep up.

The apartment door clicked shut and silence fell. At least until the baby grumbled again and tried to wriggle out of Carlos’ arms. He swore and sat down abruptly, at least if he was sitting it was a shorter distance to the floor, seeing as the little one seemed determined to get there one way or another.

Jake didn’t berate him about swearing this time. Carlos looked sharply at him. "What, no telling off?"

"Later," Jake replied quietly. His eyes were on the baby’s screwed up, reddened face. "Still can’t quite believe this is happening."

Carlos sucked in a deep breath and looked down into the bottomless brown eyes which were now staring up at him. "I know."

"You don’t have to...it’s not like we chose to do this now. It’s a massive thing to ask anyone to do. If you don’t want to..."

"Jake?" Carlos smiled wearily. "Shut up."

Jacob nodded, grinning back. "Shutting up." He stroked one finger along the little hand waving out of the blanket’s folds. "We’ve got a kid." He sounded awed, amazed and not a little dazed by the thought. Carlos knew exactly how he felt.

"Yeah, apparently we do."

"What do we call him?"

"Um..."

"He can’t be Prince Um."

"Sarcastic ass."

"But you love me for it."

Carlos huffed, because that at least was true.

"Seriously, the kid needs a name."

"I know," Carlos snapped. "I’m thinking." He frowned, genuinely thinking and coming up blank. "What names do you like?"

"I don’t know," Jake replied, "never thought about it."

"Right, names," Carlos settled himself more comfortably on the seat and bit his lip. "What’s your grandfather’s name?"

"Tiberius."

"Other grandfather?"

"James."

"James isn’t too bad."

Jake grimaced. "If he’s going to be a prince, I think he’ll end up with my family name, Jensen. James Jensen? Or we could always flout tradition and use your name. James Alvarez? James Alvarez-Jensen? James Jensen-Alvarez?"

"Let’s just stick with Jensen as a family name," Carlos said, smiling at Jake’s worried confusion. "It’s all right, I don’t mind. He’ll be a prince so he’ll need your name to convince people he’s royal. There’s no point giving him anything extra to make his life difficult."

"Fine," Jake nodded. "What about your granddads? What were their names? We don’t have to use James."

"No, I like it." Carlos winced as the baby aimed a surprisingly strong kick into his ribs. "Does he need a middle name?"

"Oh yes," Jake sighed. "Lots of ‘em. I’ve got three, remember."

Carlos grinned. "Prince Jacob William Matthew Cornelius Jensen."

"I still haven’t forgiven them for Cornelius," Jake’s smile was a little strained. "I veto all names which are currently being used for me. The kid deserves something different."

"True," Carlos nodded.

"What’s your middle name?"

"Don’t have one."

"Really?"

"Nope."

"Huh. You’re not much help, then are you?"

Carlos glared. Jake quickly moved on.

"What was your father’s name? Your real one, not Max."

"Rodrigo." Carlos said it quietly, even after so many years, he still felt the loss of his father.

He’d been barely three years old when a vicious fever had carried Rodrigo off and left his mother to care for him by herself. His memories of his father were sketchy and distorted by time. What he recalled most were a bushy black beard and a deep, booming voice calling out his name when they played.

"James Rodrigo?" Jake suggested softly.

Carlos looked at the little face again, those brown eyes so trusting and somehow older than they should have been. "James Rodrigo," he agreed quietly.

Unbidden, a lump rose into his throat. It would have been nice if his parents could have seen this, seen what he’d managed to accomplish despite being cursed with Max for most of his life. He sniffed.

"Hey." Jake’s arm slid around his shoulders. "It’s all right."

"I know," Carlos said, sniffing again. Brave knights did not cry when confronted with a baby.

"It’ll be fun." Jake sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Carlos. "We can play games now and get away with it."

Carlos laughed. "Hide and Seek in the throne room?"

"Kiss Chase in the kitchens."

"Tag in the stables."

Jake chuckled. His hand slipped up to the back of Carlos neck. "Really, it’ll be all right. We’ll get used to this and...we’ll be fine. We’ve got our heir."

"Yeah," Carlos said faintly, arching his neck and reveling in Jake’s touch. "Family..."

"Always," Jake muttered fiercely before leaning in to kiss him.

Little James Rodrigo wailed his displeasure with the lack of attention being shown to him and made them both jump.

"Is that gonna happen every time?" Jake gave James a narrow look.

"Hope not," Carlos replied, although he had a sneaking feeling that it would.

"Who would’ve thought that today would be the day we have to grow up?" Jake said wonderingly. He cupped one hand around James’ head, thumb stroking the downy fuzz.

That suffocating, awe-inspiring, terrified but excited feeling was back in Carlos’ chest again. "Who would’ve thought," he echoed softly.

He’d gone out hunting as an irresponsible knight, worried about nothing more than how to entertain himself and Jake. Now, he was a father. Granted he shared the burden with Jake, but still. It was a little overwhelming.

"You all right?" Jake asked.

"Yeah," Carlos nodded, because for the first time in his life, he truly was.

***

And they all lived happily ever...actually, hang on a minute. Should I let them get away with living happily ever after just yet? *ponders* Nah.

After all, Aisha’s still alive isn’t she? And you just know she’ll bewitch Clay before long. Honestly, that girl’s just a troublemaker. Before you know it, she’ll be back in Jake and Carlos’ world, out for revenge...

It might take a while to prize the story from our beloved boys, we all know how reticent Cougar can be at times. But hopefully soon I’ll catch JJ on a good day and he’ll spill the beans to me. As soon as I know what happens, I’ll be sure to stop by and tell all of you lovely people as well.

So for now, so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, adieu...you know how the song goes, right? (Yes, that song will now be in my head for days - thank you, oh brain of mine)

Thank you all for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Night at the Ball](https://archiveofourown.org/works/999622) by [Cougars_catnip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cougars_catnip/pseuds/Cougars_catnip)
  * [Art for Jujitsuelf's story "The Prince's Knight"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/976158) by [mific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific)




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